Tangled Threads Of Time
by Hazel-Buttafly
Summary: Hermione wakes up one morning and finds herself in the arms of Draco Malfoy. He says they are married and Voldemort rules both the Wizard and Muggle worlds. In shock, Hermione seeks out Ron and Harry only to find out they hate her. What happened?
1. Escape

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

**I have finally got around to re-doing this story! Woohoo!**

* * *

_**Tangled Threads of Time **_

**_--_**

**Prologue:**

The dawn light seeped through the open window into the room, landing on the woman who laid asleep in blissful ignorance. A frosty yet gentle breeze tugged at her unruly hair, rousing her from her slumbering state. Slowly, she fluttered open her caramel-brown eyes, vision slightly blurred, she casually observed her surroundings. Hermione Granger awoke to a surprising realization that morning. She wasn't in her own bed. Nor in her own room, or any other room she could ever recall seeing before.

Her heart thumped in her chest, afraid to move or speak. _Where am I? _She thought briskly. _What happened?_

The last thing she could recall was her Hogwarts graduation. She stood amongst her peers and shook McGonagall's hand with tears that burned her eyes from glee and the sadness of a beginning and ending chapter of her life. She finished top in her class. Ron and Harry were both grinning, waving at her from the crowd along with the Weasley's and her parents, they were all beaming and beckoning supportive gestures.

They held a commencement party at the Burrow, filled with laughter and toasts of greatness, Ron pulled her away and...

Hermione felt a cold lump form in her throat. He asked her to marry him.

She accepted the offer with much enthusiasm, until the house shook and Death Eaters were seen flying over head…

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he lukewarm sheets that rested over her form stirred; they shifted and made a small grunting noise followed by a groan of breath and creak of the wooden headrest that was gracefully carved in delicate designs above her pillow. Another grumble shortly followed.

_Grunting?_ Thought Hermione anxiously, shutting her eyes tightly. _Please let it be Crookshanks… _

Gradually, she curved her neck to face whoever – or whatever – she was apparently dividing the bed with.

A man rested beside her, with sleep-ruffled blonde hair and a pale pointed face that was firm and rigid slept beside her. Hermione blinked and felt her breath trapped halfway through her lungs, her hand flew to cover her mouth to prevent a sudden gasp about to escape her lips and her fingernails clenched tightly on the sheets to keep her leaping out of her skin.

_Draco Malfoy? _

She was more terrified than ever. There he was, dozing there as bold as brass as if it was the most _obvious_ thing to do in the world. She sensed her features flush as her eyes could not help but wonder to his bare chest that was somewhat visible past the covers. Hermione's brow creased, she squinted. _He looks different… _

Exceptionally cautiously, she stepped out of the bed, her mind screaming for her wand that was nowhere in sight. She decisively decided to grasp the white-silk dressing gown on the counter as a chill seeped through her skin. Glancing down at herself, she was stunned into a stumble. Her nightdress was far too petite and revealing to be something she'd ever wear in a reality – or dream, she settled on.

_That's it,_ she concluded. _A dream – a horrible, horrible dream. That's all it is. _

Looking over at the person who appeared to be Malfoy, she clenched the robe around herself tightly.

_Still… _the voice in her head whispered. _You better sneak out anyway._

Tip-toeing across the expensively furnished chamber and quietly out of the large oak doors, Hermione carefully closed them behind her before dashing as prompt as she could down the narrow hall and a marble flight of stairs. Portraits stared at her oddly as she passed; the bizarre house was dark and infinite, filled with outlandish objects. Hallways and corridors were enough for her to get fretfully lost. Eventually, she came across a kitchen, full of a ready-made breakfast. The aroma of freshly squeezed juices and extra crunchy bacon was almost too tempting to deny her protesting stomach, however her brain was still whizzing, trying to organize a decent and reasonable plan of action.

_Without my wand, I might as well stand in the middle of the wilderness - sounding off a fog horn - with a big sign saying "vulnerable" tattooed on my forehead. _

Her eyes wandered back down to her nightdress.

_And a sign saying "skank" strapped to my butt._

The echo of footsteps caught her off guard, and a voice filled the house.

"Hermione!" it called.

It made her jump, her eyes scanned around the room, searching for a weapon that she could somehow use to defend herself. Snatching a nearby spatula, she turned towards the tone with a fake, cheesy grin, the spatula concealed behind her with her fingers closed tightly around it. The same questionable man walked into the kitchen in green-satin robes, looked at her a moment before sitting at the table and pouring himself a glass of juice.

"Good morning." he said gruffly.

She could no longer keep quiet. "Who are you?" she cried out, her voice raised higher than she would have otherwise decided. His grey eyes narrowed dangerously, disturbing his content mood. "Where am I? What is this place?" he just continued to glare. "_Answer me_!" she demanded.

The figure continued to watch her, sipping at the glass in his hand. He placed the crystal goblet back onto the table. A pause followed. "You are in the Malfoy Manor," he said finally, his fingers twitching. "I am Draco Malfoy. You'd think after ten years you'd know this."

"Ten years?" Hermione whispered, her mouth felt dry. "What do you mean?"

Draco drawled, amused. "Yes. That is how long we've been married isn't it?"

"Married?" her voice was so hushed she could barely hear herself.

"What is wrong with you today?" he said impatiently, grasping a copy of _the Daily Prophet_ that was perched beside him.

"Married…" she mouthed again, the spatula behind her landed with a clang on the cold, tiled floor. The world appeared to twist in ways unnatural, the ring of the spatula echoed in her head, she felt sick. She grasped the cooking bench to keep her knees from shaking violently beneath her. Her stomach turned uncomfortably.

"What are you saying?" Malfoy snapped, slamming the paper back down on the counter in uproar. "That you suddenly don't remember what's happened in the last ten years?" Hermione stood there in shock, from the clueless look on her face Draco smirked. "Well, allow me to _refresh_ your memory." His chair was sent backward as he backed her against the wall, kissing her roughly.

Once there lips separated Hermione quivered in disgust. "You and me are married," he said darkly. "We have been for ten years now, after we graduated Hogwarts. Our world - Wizard and Muggle – are ruled beneath the Dark Lord after his rise to power." Draco cocked his head in mild amusement at the terror in Hermione's eyes. "I work in the Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You stay home and ensure the House Elves do their job and company is well entertained." Hermione couldn't help almost going into her standard S.P.E.W lecture, but Draco lowered his voice and whispered into her ear. "You _also_ ensure an heir in due time."

Her eyes widened, throat dry as she tried to swallow.

"I… I'm -?"

"Not yet." he said without doubt, looking onto her with bitter eyes.

She let out a sigh of relief as Draco gathered his seat at the table, opening the paper again, inspecting each page carefully as he ate slowly in thought. "Malfoy?" she mumbled, he didn't so much as acknowledge her. "I mean – Draco?" He didn't look up, but she knew he was listening. "I'm going to stay for a couple of nights at my…" her mind raced. "At my parents."

Draco gazed upwards at her, a small sneer tugging his lips.

"I'll be back," she said weakly. "I just need a few days to clear my head."

He then waved his arm in dismissal; Hermione felt a wave of hate wash over her until the dread and panic came flooding back with newly found intensity. Without a goodbye, she left the room before he could tell her otherwise. Running towards the grand front entrance, not bothered at the cold weather and her lack of shoes and clothing. The only thing she allowed on her mind:

Escape.

* * *

**Well, please tell me what you think!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	2. The Burrow

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

This is re-uploaded chapter one! Enjoy, cheers!

* * *

**Chapter One: **

Hermione didn't really intend to go her parents; she didn't know were to turn. Once she had finally managed to calm herself down enough to Disapparate from the Malfoy Manor, she found herself in a world she didn't know. The people on the street would either flinch at every sound made, or they were so drunk they didn't know whether they were walking, talking or lying flat on their face. Wolf whistles and cat calls followed her as she wandered through each lane. Tears rushed to her eyes as she watched the crumbling society, she felt vulnerable – like someone had taken a part of her and shattered it.

Alone and desperate as she passed burnt and looted buildings, broken glass cutting her feet. With every step she felt a little more of herself vanish as she tried to avoid the wizards and witches duelling over provisions. Most of those she saw either glared at her luxuries - like the diamond ring on her hand - or ran away, terrified.

She looked out onto the hills, and only then did she realize where she had Apparated in to.

The Burrow shone like the sun in the distance.

She gazed at the sky; it had turned a stomach-clenching shade of grey and whatever colour that was left in it was blood-red and spattered like ink in cloudy water. Thunder rumbled in the distance, those that laid on the road scrambled for cover as heavy rain pelted down towards the earth. Hermione gasped as the ice-cold water drenched down upon her, sending chilly shivers throughout her body.

She dashed through the valley, heading towards the place she had once called home.

--

Hermione beat as hard as she could on The Burrow door, the thicker wood and steel hurt her knuckles, her breath came in shallow huffs that could barely be heard over the storm. Bitter tears mixed with the downpour rain dripped down her face as she shook violently in her confusion.

"Who's there?" said the raspy voice she still recognized to be Molly Weasley's. "Announce yourself!"

"Hermione Jean Granger!" she bellowed through the bulky door and howling wind. "I need help!"

There was a silence before an angry dispute of voices were heard.

"What form does your Patronus take?" the voice addressed her again.

"An otter!" Hermione cried.

"_Anyone could know that_!" someone hissed from inside, another argument started.

"Please!" she wailed. "I don't know where else to go! You're my family!"

The door flew open and she was pulled forcefully inside, she heard it slam behind her. Warmth, very little of it however not unwelcome, washed over her as she glanced at the familiar setting of The Burrow. Though before she had a chance to speak or breathe a sigh of relief she was thrown against the wall with a sudden muttered curse.

Mrs. Weasley starred at her fiercely. "Family!" she screeched - she looked as drained and worn as ever, her hair had no colour to a deathly white that fell limply against her face that was a fierce shade of red. "_Family_! You have absolutely no right! _No right_!"

Hermione blinked. "Mrs. Weasley –"

"You dare…" growled a voice from a corner; Hermione turned her head to see Ginny – though not quite the Ginny she could ever recall. This Ginny had lost all brightness in her eyes and held her wand pointed at Hermione, she was the one that bonded her to the wall. "You _dare_ show your face here! _Traitor_!"

She raised her wand again to throw another curse when Mrs. Weasley shot her a glare, Ginny retreated the spell immediately, although didn't lower her wand.

"Why have you come back?" said a cold, harsh tone she had never heard from Fred Weasley. "You don't belong here." He and George stood in shadows at the foot of the staircase; both had lost the laugher in their features, replaced by lines that made them appear much older than they truly were. Fred was the first to step into the light – a long scar twisted down his face from the top of his forehead to the opposite jaw, twisting it into a permanent grimace. George stood next to him, missing an ear and a thin mark across his upper and lower lip. Hermione gaped in horror, but before she could express any concern they continued.

"Why are you here?" George hissed, giving her a look of disgust.

She did her best to ignore the hostile looks aimed at her; she closed her eyes to stop the tears flowing. "I…" no words could find their way. "I don't know what's going on." she stated simply. The Weasley's swapped glances – though Hermione could not read them.

"'Don't know what's going on?'" snapped Ginny aggressively. "Did you expect us to roll out the welcome mat for you?"

Fred let out a sharp bark of laughter, George followed. "What an act!" he exclaimed. "Superb, to be honest! The Death Eaters are losing their touch."

"I am not a Death Eater!" Hermione said defensively, her cheeks a bright scarlet. The Weasley's glared at her again.

"You married one, didn't you?" Fred said in a deadly quiet voice. "Ran off and married Draco Malfoy before the outcome of the war was even decided, to save your own skin! Left the rest of us here to be picked off _one by one_." Hermione had turned pale, her stomach entwined into a knot.

"And how many of us have you done in yourself?" Ginny whispered, grief in her voice.

If possible, she paled even more, the sickening feeling clawing through her. _I couldn't have…_ "Please…" Said Hermione grimly. "I don't remember any of this. I don't…" her voice broke into uncontrollable sobs, neither Ginny, Fred, George – not even kind Mrs. Weasley – showed any sympathy. "I don't know…" Hermione tried again, "what's happened since graduation. I don't… remember anything."

"Nothing?" Mrs. Weasley said bitterly. "_Nothing_? You don't remember how you broke Ron's heart running off with that Malfoy boy?" Hermione felt her heart drop at the mention of his name. "You don't remember how Voldemort defeated Harry – with your help and information – almost killing him in the process?" by now the pain overwhelmed her. "You don't remember the deaths of your once allies?" she didn't want to hear names. "Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shackbolt – members of the Order? Seamus Finnegan and Colin Creevey – once your friends at Hogwarts weren't they? Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson?" she noticed Fred winced. "Victor Krum and Fleur Delacour?" Mrs. Weasley swallowed hard. "Percy, Charlie and Arthur Weasley – your _family_? None of these mean anything to you? _You don't remember_!"

Hermione could not speak, she could not breathe – nothing but the ache she felt throbbing inside her.

"I don't have a wand," Hermione stated, mostly to Ginny. "Can you let me down?"

"No," Ginny replied. "You see, we don't trust you."

"Please!" she begged weakly. "I –"

"Look at you," Ginny began, her words spitting venom, "asking us for help. Pathetic," she crossed the room in strong strides to the place were Hermione stood still, placing a hand carefully on her cheek, she swiftly drew back and slapped Hermione with such force she left her whole body lurch under the binding jinx.

It burned. Ginny grabbed a heap of Hermione's hair so that they were looking deadly into each others eyes, inches from the other. "Too bad I have no pity left in me," she whispered to the sobbing girl. "You took that from me."

"That's enough Ginny," Mrs. Weasley spoke calmly with authority. "Let her down."

Ginny gaped at her mother. "But mum –"

"You heard me, _put her down_!"

Either way, Ginny did not intend on putting Hermione down gently. She landed with a thud on the Burrow floor, gazing up at the Weasley's, not knowing how to express the emotions she was feeling. "Hermione Jean Granger," Mrs. Weasley said coldly. "You and all your kin are hereby exiled from the Burrow – now _leave_."

She felt her eyes prickle painfully, leading to silent weeping. Fred and George walked up to her – taking an arm each, the twins lifted her off her quivering feet. Though not out of empathy or compassion, the Burrow door was once again thrown open and Hermione was plunged out into the mud.

Her face was smudged with earth as she lifted herself up from the ground to once more gaze at the Weasley's that stood in the doorway. Ginny was the first to turn away, disappearing from the entry, followed by the twins. Hermione looked up at Mrs. Weasley, who looked down with debating conflict in her eyes – watching as the rain beat upon her.

"I…" Hermione began. "I'm sorry - _so_ sorry…"

"Are you?"

The door closed – leaving Hermione engulfed in darkness and misery. _This can't be happening…_ She thought desperately. _It can't be…_

Carefully picking herself up from the floor she tried to steady herself on her two feet. Wobbling knees and her burning cheek, Hermione wandered towards the first place her legs would take her. "Ten years…" Hermione mumbled to herself. "Has it really been ten years?"

She drifted for what felt like hours, until she felt a yank at her ankle, plunging her once again onto the cold, hard earth. She looked down angrily at the root of a willow tree entwined to her foot – she suddenly felt an urge of anger. She let out a scream of despair and fury – wrenching at the root until it cut into her skin, spilling blood. The root slipped off and Hermione felt empty once more, curling up against the trunk of the willow for shelter from the still pouring rain. She hugged her knees to her chest, crying into her bleeding hands.

_Alone…_ Hermione thought. _I am alone. _

* * *

**Thank you to all those who reviewed! You all inspired this chapter! Reviews make me update faster and write quicker, just so you know, heehee!** **Please forgive the characters (mainly Weasleys) personalities in this chapter, I don't really like writing them this way. Never fear though, everything will make sense eventually! **

**Please read and review! **

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	3. Murderer

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Re-uploaded chapter two!

* * *

**Chapter Two: **

Hermione hadn't slept that night. Fearsome imagines plagued her mind – blood, death, murder. Screams echoed throughout her head - pleas, begging and prayers. Horrible thoughts. Horrible memories. She felt the sickening feeling overwhelm her again; she pulled herself over the willow and retched - a bitter taste filled her mouth as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, collapsing back at the bottom of the tree.

_How could I have forgotten ten years? Is this a spell? A test, a curse? _Hermione felt her eyes sting. _A punishment?_ She didn't know what to think, she didn't know what to do; and she didn't know why it took all her self-control to stand up and take a few stumbling steps to Apparate. It all remained a dizzying blur.

--

It was the same place, the same alleyway she had Apparated to many times before. It had the same similar musky smell and dampness, the usual path she'd take to visit her parents on holidays. _It's where I told Malfoy I was going,_ she thought. _I hope he doesn't come looking for me…_

The very thought of seeing Malfoy again scared her, his presence was like a dagger dangling above her head – threatening to drop at any time with the trigger being a miss-said word on her part. At the beginning she didn't think going to her parents was necessary, that they wouldn't understand what was going on and end up in trouble themselves – it was something that they would blame witchcraft on. But now she knew she had to see them. Hold them close.

Hermione walked down the muggle street, it was barely dawn – there were no cars, the road was half blown apart – small fires remained in the corner of her eyes, freshly started, and shadows loomed over the once pleasant lane. Her heart stopped.

_Fire. _

She couldn't think.

Her parent's house was ablaze. Hermione found herself running, jumping before her mind had come to terms – sprinting as fast as she could towards the front door that laid in ruins a few feet before her. She rushed into the blaze, coughing as a wave of black smoke hit her.

"MUM!" she wailed, her voice could barely be heard over the roar of the flames. "DAD!" Her vision was a haze, darting across the front entrance into the living room – a wetness soaked into the carpet touched her bare feet, her hand covered her mouth to help prevent another heaving retch.

It was blood.

She stared around the room, walls splattered, the hem of her robes drenched in crimson blood – and two bodies laid spread-eagle in the middle of the living room floor. Hermione screamed in dismay. She couldn't reach them; a divider of the burning inferno prevented her from going any further. She heard the loud bang of the fire making contact with the small gas line in the kitchen; it was only a matter of seconds until the whole house would be blown apart with her and her dead parent's bodies along with it.

Hermione noticed a shadow of another person enter the room – it was calling out her parent's names. Her head felt foggy and thick, her legs refused to move – a part of her wanted to die in the house, another part of her didn't mind when the unknown individual lifted her off her feet and swung her over their shoulder, carrying her out of the smouldering residence.

The person was jogging as fast and further away down the street as they could go – though all Hermione could comprehend was the rhythmic pattern of herself being heaved along and the sight of her parents bodies left in the flames. Another bang – the house had disintegrated in a blast of rumble and fire, it seemed they were much further away than she thought.

"Hermione?" the voice she heard she recognized as the man that saved her life placed her back down on her own feet. She did not respond nor pause to look at his face – but bolted down the remainder of the road before Apparating back to the last place on earth she wanted to go to: The Malfoy Manor.

--

She knew. He thought she was ignorant of the act he played, but she knew – and she was fuming.

Hermione knew what Draco Malfoy had done. He had murdered her parents without mercy. The blackness of Apparation faded.

--

Hermione barged into the drawing room – hair wild, cloths torn, covered in mud and blood with an expression of misery and rage. Unaware that Draco had guests, Hermione marched across the room towards him. "_What have you done_?!" she said darkly, fresh tears flowing from her eyes. His expression remained unnaturally still as he nodded an apology to his visitors – seizing Hermione by her upper arm; he dragged her from the room, closing the door behind them.

He turned to face her, his strong grip remained firm.

"I told you," Draco said calmly. "Long ago – that if you _ever_ tried to leave – there'd be punishment."

Hermione was stunned into silence, then twisted her arm from his reach. "My parents!" Hermione moaned. "_My parents_?"

She fell to the floor, her cries echoed throughout the manor. Draco turned his back to Hermione, facing the door; he opened it and let himself in, stating with a pleasant smile. "My apologies. My wife, she unwell." The door closed once more, leaving Hermione sobbing in the hall.

--

It took Hermione a while to realize that someone came to sit beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"There, there, Mistress," a House Elf said soothingly. "Let's take you to get cleaned up."

Hermione wiped her eyes to see the elf more clearly. She – for it was a girl – had taken Hermione gently by her blood-covered hands and was leading her up a nearby staircase and into an extraordinarily decorated washroom. Four other House Elves awaited them in the room, each holding different soaps and perfumes. They each took a part of Hermione's grubby dressing gown that still covered her nightdress and lightly pulled it away. It took her a while to regain her ability to speak.

"Thank-you," she whispered sincerely to the first House Elf that had retrieved her from the entrance hall. "What's your name?"

"Millie," the House Elf said. "Mistress Hermione's personal House Elf!"

The Elf gave a low bow so that her nose almost came in contact with the cream tiled floor. Hermione was stunned at the fright in the Elf's squeaky voice as Millie joined the other House Elves in ushering Hermione towards the bathtub, filling it with delicate-looking potions.

"P-Please!" Hermione said politely. "I can… I can do it myself! It's no trouble!"

The House Elves continued, pausing only for a second to give one another quizzical looks.

Millie took Hermione's hand once again and led her into the sweet-smelling bath. The water felt good against her skin – it calmed her and helped her mind clear. "Mistress must look her best for Master's visitors." Another House Elf stated quietly. The Elves wrapped her in a fluffy pink towel, Mille was brushing her hair; tying it up in a graceful knot similar to the way she had it at the Yule Ball back in fourth year. _That's was over thirteen years ago now… _

"Millie," Hermione began uncertainly. "I have a job for you - if you'd like to do it, please."

The Elf blinked at her and gave another low bow. "Of course, Mistress."

"First, you don't need to bow like that," she said kindly. "And call me Hermione if you like."

Millie looked uncertain but stayed silent for Hermione to continue. "I need you to find two wizards: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. When you find where they are, come back and tell me. Please, it's really important Malfoy… I mean Draco, doesn't know about this."

--

Hermione re-entered the drawing room, this time clothed in emerald green dress robes with fine silver-thread embroidery. Malfoy was seated at the sitting table with two other people also dressed in expressive-looking garments. As she entered the small group looked at her pleasantly.

"Hermione!" Draco said joyously, she had a strong urge to spit at him. "How nice of you to join us!"

_Kill me…_ she thought bitterly. "Draco darling," Hermione began, sitting beside him. "I am sincerely sorry for my actions a few moments ago - and I hope that our _distinguished_ guests will accept my apology. I have been feeling rather ill as of late."

"Of course you are pardoned," said the female of the company, then added coyly. "Is there an heir on the way?"

Draco laughed as Hermione tried her hardest to chuckle. "Let us hope." she stated with a strained smile. _Not…_

--

A few hours later, in Hermione's room, since the one she had woken up in that day before was Malfoy's; a loud _crack_ was heard as she sat at her desk, trying to figure out everything that had happened in the past day and a solution to it – the only thing that came to mind was Hogwarts library.

"Mistress," Millie squeaked. "I have found the residence of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley."

* * *

**Wow, chapter two complete! Please don't hesitate to ask questions! **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	4. Bitter Reunions

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Thank-you to all who reviewed! I'm very happy your all enjoying this!

* * *

******Chapter Three: **

"Are you quite sure Millie?" Hermione asked for the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes.

"Yes Mistress Hermione," Millie stated cheerfully as she tied a red ribbon around Hermione's waist. "Millie is quite certain."

Hermione sighed uneasily, the past few days had been extremely stressful, so she was thankful that the only times she would see Malfoy was at meals - and even then he didn't seem eager to speak. She had been trying hard to adjust to the ways of a wealthy housewife – with Millie's help of course, the House Elf and Hermione had become good friends during the time they spent together at the Malfoy Manor. Millie listened to the tragic events that Hermione had endured the past week and provided a warm, bony shoulder to cry on.

Apparently, Millie had said, Hermione had definitely been acting oddly since she had "disappeared on that wet day without her fur coat". Usually, she continued, Mistress Hermione was very cold to House Elves and would never speak out of place to Master since the day _it_ happened – when Hermione tried to inquire as to exactly 'it' was, Mille refused to answer and started banging her head on the counter mirror.

Prying the House Elf off was the first time Hermione had looked at her reflection properly, she was definitely not seventeen anymore – though she didn't look old either. Her hair was still somewhat bushy and some of her features had matured, although it was enough to give her a shock at first - she had fallen off her linden chair with a small yelp – startling Millie so much that she dropped Hermione's perfume and started hitting her head again.

Whenever Hermione was not being taught how to "act as normal", she was trying to come up with as many options possible as to why she could have forgotten ten years. She sat at her desk while Millie adjusted her cherry-pink dress, chewing annoyingly at the end of her quill and scribbling furiously on the parchment:

_A memory charm. _

_One of Fred and Georges ridiculous products_.

_A backfired curse/jinx and/or spell. _

_A horrible jest. _

_A _really_ bad memory charm…_

Hermione paused. '_A _really_ bad memory charm…?' What am I thinking? _

She dropped her quill and added yet another scrunched up piece of parchment to the already full waste-basket. Millie flinched as it toppled over and tumbled to the floor, the House Elf was immediately on her hands and knees – despite Hermione's objections – picking up each individual scrap of paper and getting rid of it with a click of her bony fingers.

Hermione looked at the clock at her small table, it was almost time. She was starting to have doubts play through her mind and her nerves were hanging on by a thread. "Okay," Hermione stated to calm her tension before anxiously turning towards Mille with a fretful appearance. "You're _absolutely_ sure?"

The Elf didn't seem impatient or irritated. "Yes Mistress, Millie is sure."

"Okay," She mumbled breathlessly, trying to reassure herself. "_Okay_…"

Hermione headed towards the door of her room, down the small hallway and one flight of stairs, she turned and marched confidently across the room and knocked loudly on the study door. "Enter." She carefully and quietly opened the door, her heart rate quickened as she cleared her throat.

"Dear?" Her mind raced for the pet-names Millie had informed her with. "My little Goldie Gumdrop Cuddle Cake?"

_This is too weird…_ Draco looked up from his parchment and quill. "Yes Sugar Lips?" he said, to her surprise, rather normally tone, without sneering or drawling. "Looking for a good time, love? I have to head down to the office soon but if you want to…"

"No!" Hermione said hastily. "I mean – _later_," she said in what she hoped was a seductive manner, fumbling with a strand of hair nervously. "Anyway… Sweetie, I just wanted to –"

"Wait." Draco said with clear authority, holding up his hand to signal silence. He stood up from his seat and with a few strides was standing directly in front of her; too close for Hermione's liking, but she tried not to look uncomfortable. "I've noticed," He said quietly, running his hand down her arm tenderly. "Last week, you were acting very strangely… I understand that the," he paused with a small smile, "_tragic_ loss of your parents had a huge impact on you, darling, but as you might recall - this was before hand. I must admit myself as curious as to why you claimed to have forgotten –"

"Oh that silly old outburst!" Hermione said somewhat hysterically. "I was feeling a bit under the weather, I have been for the past couple of days, but I'm positively fine now! I apologize!" It was the furthest thing from the truth, she was still throbbing inside from the slaughter of her parents and the incident she had with the Weasley's. But if she wanted to try and figure out what was going on then the best thing for her to do was to try and not show any emotion at all.

"Very well, darling," he stated shortly. "What was it you wanted to say?"

"Well dear, I have been feeling rather detached lately, as well as ill, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind me going out of a bit. Possibly a quick visit to Knockturn Alley – I was wanting to get you a little something…" She held her breath; he didn't speak for a long stomach-clenching second.

"Of course," he said lightly. "Enjoy yourself, Love."

He gave her a peck on the lips before exiting the room and flooing to the Ministry, like he had done every morning. Once she heard the roar of the green flames - she shuddered, wiping her mouth and splattering repeatedly. "Mille?" Hermione called once the repulsion ceased.

With a loud crack the House Elf stood before her, smiling uncertainly. Hermione went to speak.

"Yes Mistress," Mille stated. "Millie is quite sure she got the _precise_ address to the whereabouts of Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter." The Elf answered.

Hermione sighed. "Thanks." Millie bowed slightly as Hermione walked past her and towards the fireplace that Malfoy had just disappeared from moments before; clenching a handful of floo powder she stood stiffly on the spot and exclaimed: "_4_ _Webster Place, Fife, Dunfermline, Scotland_!"

--

Hermione – instead of coming out of the fireplace like she anticipated – ended up outside, on a quiet, peaceful-looking street that was rather different to the atmosphere she was accustomed to for her stay at the Malfoy Manor. In front of her stood a three-story house, squished between two other similar buildings, with a high gate that went into the front yard where many flowerbeds laid. It reminded Hermione strangely of her grandmother's house.

Straightening herself out and running her fingers nervously through her hair, Hermione took a shaky breath and stepped forwards, opening the gate, she warily paced into the garden and up to the large, white doors. _Knock_, _knock_, _knock_.

The door opened almost immediately, revealing on the other side a pretty blue-eyed brunette woman.

"'Ello," the brunette said politely, she had a mild Scottish accent. "'Ow can ah help yeh?"

"Err… hi," Hermione replied, feeling slightly foolish. "I was looking for two friends of mine… Ronald and Harry…?"

She had thought for one painstaking minute that she had the wrong house, but the woman smiled and stepped aside from the front door. "Come in!" she said happily. "Their just on an errand! Ah was actually expecting them! They'll be 'ome in a moment!"

"Thank you." Hermione said as she was ushered inside and into a spacious sitting room were she was handed a cup of tea and a slice of strawberry-drizzled cheesecake. The woman took a seat beside her and began cutting herself a wedge with a content smile on her face that made Hermione wonder if she rarely got company.

"Pardon me," she stated. "Ah haven't introduced myself. Ah'm Bonnie Cullen, pleased to meet a friend of Ron and Harry's!"

Bonnie shook Hermione's hand vigorously. "How do you do?" Hermione said formally, Bonnie laughed.

"Ahh! Of course, the English and their formalities! Harry and Ron were the same way…" Bonnie remarked.

"Um… when did you say they'd be back?" she asked uneasily, shifting in her seat.

"They…" Bonnie trailed off. "They will be back soon – important business, yeh know."

"Okay." Hermione said, then hesitantly added. "Is it for the Order?"

Bonnie paused as she placed the teacup back on the table slowly, looking at Hermione peculiarly.

"Yeh know of the Order of the Phoenix?" she asked rather thoughtfully.

Hermione gulped down the mouthful of cheese cake that seemed lodged in her throat. "Yes…"

The woman's expression remained unreadable, Hermione figured most people had perfected this quality over time, as she leaned back against her chair in what Hermione could assume was a look of deep thought and uncertainty. After a long moment she spoke again. "What did yeh say yer name was -?"

"We're back!" the voice of Ron Weasley filled the quiet house as he walked into the sitting room. "Bonn, who's your frien –" He stopped in mid-sentence, staring at Hermione in shock. Hermione exclaimed his name with a yelp, standing up from her chair abruptly, eyes wide as she soaked in his image. He cried out in astonishment. "_Hermione_!"

"_Hermione_?" Harry Potter stated strangely as he entered the room.

Both men gaped at her presence.

"Hello guys," Hermione said uncertainly, fiddling with her hands awkwardly. "Been a while, how are you?"

* * *

**A cliff-hanger. Tsktsk. I can be so horrible. Poor Hermione, this must be so awkward for her. **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	5. Fire Whiskey

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Fifty reviews! Wow, I feel speical, thanks!

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

Ron seemed to be stunned on the spot, while Harry, whose glasses were sitting threateningly at the end of his nose, slowly approached her with hesitant, steady steps. His eyes were cautiously set, studying every twitch of her fingers and his hands were held up, showing no weapons as he leaned warily. "Bonnie," Harry said carefully. "Get away from her."

The woman that sat next to Hermione gasped and jumped out of her seat, scurrying across the room behind Ron and Harry, both of which had pulled out their wands at Hermione's distraction and aimed them at her threateningly. "Hey!" Hermione said, feeling uncomfortably exposed.

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded. "How did you find us? _How did you get in_?" Hermione blinked, she had to admit that due to the welcome she had with the Weasley's she hadn't really expected any better from Ron or Harry – but she had hoped, and his harsh tone cut into her deeply, adding to her mental wounds.

"I got in through the door, Harry," she stated simply. "How else could I get inside?"

"Impossible!" he spat hotly. "No one can get in unless –" His features twisted from anger to complete confusion, Hermione couldn't help but feel a little relieved that someone beside herself held that same expression. She folded her arms around herself to keep from visibly trembling. "Unless they mean us no harm..." Bonnie finished quietly, both her and Harry swapped bewildered glances.

Hermione felt a weak ray of optimism.

"Well then," Hermione said in a very enthusiastic, business-like manner. "Why don't we put away those silly little wands, sit down and discuss this like adults?"

There was a staggered minute of silence until Bonnie clapped her hands together. "Quite right, she is," she said happily. "Ah'll get the Fire Whiskey."

"Not now Bonnie," Harry shot at her. "You don't know the situation."

"Then would yeh been kind enough to explain it to meh, Harry Potter?" she shot back, eyes suddenly wild with her gathered puzzlement. "Who is _she_?" Bonnie gestured her hands vividly and rather annoyingly to Hermione, gritting her teeth to keep her voice rising any higher. "What the _bloody hell_ is going on?"

"Her name is Hermione Malfoy." It was the first time she had properly heard Ron speak, it made her heart quiver.

"'Ermione Malfoy?" Bonnie exclaimed, mouth agape. "_The_ 'Ermione Malfoy?"

"Please," Hermione interrupted. "My name is _Hermione Granger_."

"The ring on your hand suggests otherwise." Harry snapped, motioning to it with his wand.

"I've tried to get rid of it!" Hermione stated defensively, recalling the moments of her struggles. "You try getting it off if you're so clever!"

"Okay!" Bonnie said, standing between the two, a hand on Harry's chest and the other stretched absent-mindedly towards Hermione. "Ah'm beginning to sense a lot of negative and repressed energy overwhelming 'ere. Why don't we go sit down for a wee bit and try to calm down?"

"Fantastic idea!" Hermione said before Harry could respond, following Bonnie to another area of the house, leaving both men to trail moodily behind them.

_I have a great feeling about this woman…_ Hermione thought fondly.

--

Hermione was lead into a smaller sitting room - one with quite a large liquor cabinet. Bonnie pulled out a wand from under her sleeve and flicked it about, the table was set for four and yet another cake (chocolate this time) began cutting itself into eighths. From inside the cabinet a bottle of Fire Whiskey and four Butterbeer's whizzed out onto the counter and started pouring themselves into glasses.

"So tell meh 'Ermione," Bonnie began pleasantly, sitting on the chair across from her and griping her glass of Fire Whiskey. "Why are yeh here and 'ow did yeh get past the Protective Charms?" Ron and Harry were watching them, leaning on the doorframe. "Don't be rude!" Bonnie scolded them impatiently. "Come and sit down will yeh?"

Harry hesitated with narrowed eyes before walking over and sitting between Bonnie and Hermione, Ron didn't budge.

"_Ronald_," Bonnie said in exasperation. "Would yeh come _sit down_?" he flinched at her tone - arms crossed and face twisted into a scowl – he sat next to her. Bonnie smiled. "Good," she began. "Now would yeh all tell meh what this is about? Like why is 'Ermoine Malfoy sitting at our table for starters?"

"Because _you_ are being hospitable." Ron mumbled, falling silent once Bonnie and Hermione glared at him.

"She was our friend," Harry answered moodily, tracing his fingers over his worn lines on wand. "Before she turned traitor."

Bonnie's brow creased. "Yeh mean to tell meh that 'Ermione Malfoy use to be 'Ermione Granger, yeh best friend?"

_Use to be…_ Hermione thought gloomily. "Please listen to me," she whispered. "I don't want to over what I've been through the past week, not yet anyway. I just need you to trust me for now. All I need you to do is trust me… I've missed you guys so much…" She buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly, while Bonnie laid a soothing hand on her shoulder and then quickly snatched it away and banged it on the table, looking at Harry and Ron with a fierce scowl.

"Yeh lot have no heart. Watchin' a friend suffer like this, Ah feel ashamed enough for the both of yeh! Refusin' to help… is it not what yeh do? Help people? Give 'em second chances?" Bonnie crossed her arms. "Ah don't know why yeh both being so thick-headed. She obviously means us no harm; after all she got past our wards. Yeh both being stupid."

"You don't know what she's done or capable of!" Harry snapped. "I can't _believe_ your defending her! Stay out of it!"

Hermione looked at him in shock. _Harry…?_ "Ah know _exactly_ what a Malfoy is capable of!" Bonnie said hotly. "Or have you forgotten?"

"I'm beginning to think you have!" Harry snarled. "Do you need reminding?"

"_Enough_!" Hermione said loudly, echoing through the room, everyone gazed at her. "Sorry," she added in a smaller voice. "Please don't fight…"

"She's right," Ron stated regrettably, "stand down Harry. Bonnie didn't know."

"Then teach Bonnie her place!" he bellowed, standing from his seat, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he angrily adjusted his spectacles. "How hard is it to tell her of the past, Ron? It's the only way she'll be able to fully appreciate the situation! It's the least you can do!"

Ron stood up also, teeth bared. "The least _I_ can do is to leave you here, by yourself, and _hope_ you'll manage your way!"

"Okay boys," Bonnie said gingerly, standing to separate them, the atmosphere thick. "Time out. Deep, calming breaths through yeh nose. And both of yeh sit back down now before yeh poke someone's eye out with those." she timidly tapped the wand in Ron's hand.

"Ginny isn't here to take your side." Ron whispered darkly to Harry.

The black-haired man faltered, spluttering. "You're lucky your fiancée is forced to take yours!"

"Harry…" Hermione began warningly but then stopped. "Wait… _huh_?" she blinked rather rapidly. "F-_Fiancée_?"

Harry looked at her with a sneer. "You really can't remember anything, can you? Fred was right."

Bonnie glanced at Hermione with a small smile, obviously not absorbing the tension. "Ronald and Ah are engaged!"

Hermione felt her heart shatter. "Oh," she said shortly. "C-Congratulations." There was a small silence to which Ron shifted uneasily beside Bonnie. "I… I better get going before Malfoy finds out where I am." Hermione stood quickly, passed Harry and exited the room. She stood at the front entrance, breathing heavily through closed eyes.

_No… it can't be… he can't be in love… _

_… with someone else. _"'Ermione!" Bonnie called, walking into the hall. "Ah –"

"Its better that I leave," Hermione interrupted in a low whisper. "I… I thought I would still belong here, with them. But I guess not."

Bonnie tried to remain bright, pursing her lips awkwardly. "Come over for tea some time soon."

"Tea?" Hermione stated curtly, hand pressed to her thumping chest.

Bonnie grinned sheepishly. "Or Fire Whiskey, either one suits meh fine."

"Right," Hermione muttered. "Okay…" She exited through the tall gate and looked back to see Bonnie waving cheerfully.

_I hate that woman. _

--

Hermione Apparated back to the Malfoy Manor, with a quick stop at Knockturn Alley for a new dress robe for Malfoy. She opened the door and walked into the entrance hall, only to hear voices coming from the drawing room. She left the packaged robes on a desk and ran her hands through her hair to make sure her appearance was somewhat appealing before knocking and entering the room. Malfoy greeted her as she opened the door.

"Darling," Draco said fondly. "We have a house guest."

Hermione frowned and peered at the person behind his shoulder.

The woman was bounded to a chair with heavy chains, a gag in her mouth and cuts oozing with blood seeping into her dirt-covered clothes. Bruises covered most bare skin – one eye didn't look right to see through – and she shook violently, rattling the chains. Hermione recognized the girl immediately.

_Ginny._

* * *

**Another chapter up and ready! I'll post more as soon as I can!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	6. Torture

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Yet.

Mwhahaha!

* * *

**Chapter Five: **

Hermione's mind had stopped reeling; she tried desperately not to show an expression on her face. Horror, disgust, dismay. She could tell Malfoy was watching her carefully, so Hermione scowled and covered her nose with her hand, crinkling it with revulsion unknown to her. "What is that Weasley scum doing here?" she demanded aggressively. "It reeks of blood-traitor!"

"The Dark Lord wants information. Apparently no amount of Finn's torture would loosen her tongue," Draco paced towards Hermione and snaked his arms around her, pressing his forehead against hers and nuzzling into her neck. "Since you knew her so well _before_, my love, He has entrusted you with this honourable task."

Hermione's mouth felt dry. "Me?" she whispered quietly. "Torture her?"

Draco removed an arm from around her and glared. "Don't sound so shocked. It's not like you haven't done it before."

Hermione swallowed her gut and stated with wavering confidence, "I know, I… I was just overwhelmed with joy."

He smirked at her, kissed her temple and headed towards the door, lingering by the handle. "Start in the morning," he said. "Dinner will be served soon. Your wands on the desk. Why haven't you had it with you the past week?" Hermione gasped as she spotted the recognizable vine-wood and dragon heartstring wand near the bottle of black ink on the coffee table.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with false yet true joy. "You found it! Thank you sweetheart, I had the House Elves looking for it but they were, of course, unsuccessful little pests – I will see to a week without their rations as a kind punishment for their failure."

"Why didn't you tell me you hadn't found your wand, Darling?"

"I… I just didn't want to bother you with the knowledge, honey… so much to think about already…" she trailed off. "Besides, the time without my magic has given me a great deal of insight on the world around us. Many wouldn't dare approach me, as it should be."

"Very well," Draco leered, he gestured his chin to Ginny. "Have your fun for now, but I expect you at the table in five minutes."As soon as he closed the doors behind him, Hermione lunged for the small coffee table in the middle of the room. She felt a wave of relief as she picked up her wand and held it in her hands, a tingling feeling stretched up her spine and the warmth in her fingertips.

She turned to Ginny with a heartrending sensation. "Oh Ginny… what's happened to you?"

Hermione cast Silencing Charms around the room before looking back at Ginny who appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness, but fighting hard to keep her eyes from drooping. The brunette then walked up to the bound girl and loosened the tight chains around her wrists and legs, rubbing them gently to get the circulation flowing. She removed the gag from her mouth.

Ginny seemed more alert, gazing at Hermione with a somewhat curious expression. "Don't try to talk," Hermione said clearly. "Only listen. Can you hear me?" The girl hesitated, then gave a struggled nod - only when she had healed the worst of Ginny's injuries did she speak again.

"You're in the Malfoy Manor, in case you didn't know," she stated numbly. "I'm not going to torture you, so you can get that out of your head. Nor am I going to let anything happen to you. Listen to me Ginny," she stared at the redhead's swelled eyes. "I am going to get you out of here. Don't try to leave yourself – you'll get caught. Just trust me. I know I don't deserve it, but please believe that I'm on your side." Hermione stood to her full height and glanced at Ginny once more before exiting the room. "I will not abandon you again."

--

Supper at the Manor was rather different that night: Malfoy was willing to speak.

"Did you like the dress robes?" Hermione asked while she sliced into the honey-soaked ham.

"Yes," Draco answered. "Very much so. Thank you." She tried to smile, she always tried to appear happy in his company, but every time she looked at him she could see only the man that murdered her parents. The man that stared her in the eye and admitted it without falter. "Tomorrow," he began. "We have an extremely important meeting, if you do remember the months of planning. It's our turn to host, make sure the Manor is spotless and the House Elves know to prepare a feast."

"A meeting?" Hermione inquired before quickly adding. "Yes, of course! Certainly, everything shall be ready."

Malfoy stood from the table and kissed her. "Will you be joining me tonight?" he whispered hoarsely into her ear.

"I'm afraid I promised the Weasley girl…" she thought quickly. "That… she would not sleep. For her dirty blood will be acid burning through her skin till there is no flesh, and her screams of pain will never be heard. I… can't wait to get started!" Hermione wondered if she was acting a bit _too_ crazy…

"That's my girl," Malfoy grinned, coiling a strand of her hair around his finger. "Death Eaters are on guard outside; don't be alarmed at their presence. Their just here to make sure that Weasley doesn't escape and give off our position."

"Okay," she stated, standing from her seat. "I should get back to it then. Healing all those wounds will… take time…" As soon as the words left her mouth she wished they hadn't.

Malfoy halted before the door. "Why heal them?" he asked. "Why not simply add to them?"

"Because," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "It's not the same. Like taking a bite out of something that's already been bitten."

Draco smirked before leaving the room – it gave her a quivering feeling.

--

Back in the Drawing Room, Hermione put a few more Defensive Spells around them, as well as healing Ginny's minor scrapes and bruises. She then poured a glass of cool water and held it to Ginny's lips. "Go on," Hermione coaxed. "It's not poison or anything, and you're going to need your strength if you want to get out of here."

The redhead slowly gulped down the liquid – flinching as it hit her throat. Ginny looked up at her. "Why?" she croaked in a rasping tone.

Hermione gazed at her solemnly, but chose not to answer. "Come," she said. "We have to get outside the gates to Apparate. There's Death Eaters at the doors and patrolling in the garden, so we need to be quick, and I'll need to put a disillusionment charm on you to keep you out of sight." Hermione completely removed the chains binding Ginny to the chair and grasped her wand tightly, performing the spell on her with a few complicated flicks.

Ginny began turning different shades of colour until Hermione could eventually see right through her. Satisfied, she put one of Ginny's arms around her own shoulders so that the fragile girl didn't have to support much weight – also adding the help of a quick lightness spells so it didn't appear that Hermione was struggling with an unseen mass to any unwanted viewers.

Hermione then carried Ginny out of the room, locking the door behind them. They walked towards the front entrance and out into the gardens where she noticed shadows moving agilely through corners. The sway of the grass made her nervous – her heart beating against her chest. Every groan and whisper of the wind sent her in a panic, Ginny breathing heavily beside her made her body tense and her hands fidget under her cloak.

They reached the gate where two Death Eaters stood guard – watching her approach with an unnatural stillness. _I feel queasy…_

"Halt!" One of the Death Eaters called as they reached a few meters from their destination. "Who goes there?"

"Hermione Malfoy!" Hermione stated, acting impatient as she tried to stop her voice shaking. "I _want _to get past."

"No one gets in or out," the other Death Eater said, then added anxiously, "ma'am. We have orders."

_I'm feared? I suppose this could work to our advantage…_ "Orders?" Hermione said in a deathly quiet voice. "Are you _contradicting_ me?"_ Please be afraid… _

The Death Eaters appeared uneasy, though their faces weren't shown over their white masks.

"No ma'am," stated the first. "We're just following –"

"_Orders_!" Hermione barked, advancing closer to the gate. "Move aside you pathetic little men, this is my house! _I _give the orders! _I_ set the rules! And I say: _let me pass or you'll both be sorry_!" The Death Eater dropped the brass keys to the ground in what she assumed was fright. The idea of her being feared didn't settle the uncomfortable sensation in her stomach. What on earth could she have done to make men quake in fear at the very idea of angering her?

"Y-yes Ma'am."

Hermione smiled pleasantly as they scrambled to open the gateway for her. "Thank you, Gentlemen. Have a lovely night."She walked past them in as a dignified manner as she could muster, then grasped Ginny as firmly as she could without the two guards noticing and Apparated to the Burrow. _I can't _believe _that worked… Hermione Granger, you're a genius._

--

They arrived outside the Burrow on top of a small hill where Hermione removed the charms she cast. Ginny appeared much more vibrant though Hermione couldn't see very well due to the darkness of the night. It became cold. Very cold. Like how she had been engulfed in icy water the last time she had visited the Burrow. But this time it was more dreading – a familiar sense of growing danger.

_Dementors._

Something brushed past her, Ginny gave a sudden gasp for air and a frosty hand reached for Hermione's throat and clenched it tightly, choking her, sucking the life from her. Her eyes rolled back and a blood-curling scream echoed throughout her head, pictures and words flying through her mind.

"_Please… have mercy… have mercy!"_

_Hermione let out a crackle of laughter. "_Advada Kedavra_!"_

She saw a flash of green light – but the dementor wrenched away its hand and disappeared from the bright glow of a Patronus. Hermione and Ginny both fell to the ground, everything was fading and a voice echoed in the distance: "Oh _Ginny_!" she heard someone cry out. "Get them inside – quick!" Everything went black.

* * *

**Thanks a bunch for reviews once again my loyal readers! You put a smile on my face, it really pays off the time and effort placed on this story! ****The next three or so chapters are already complete and ready to upload. Could I manage to snatch at least ten reviews before that? Thanks again! **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	7. Awakening

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you reviewers!

* * *

**Chapter Six:**

Hermione groaned in meek pain as she woke up on a lumpy-feeling bed with a throbbing head and ribcage. She opened her eyes with great difficulty and glanced about the room, half-hoping it would be hers and none of the horrible incidences that she went through had occurred. Of course, being as unlucky as she was, this didn't happen. She found bandages wrapped around her head and chest. Her neck felt stiff and numb.

"You're awake." Startled, Hermione looked towards the door to see Bill Weasley smiling weakly at her.

She'd always had a good feeling about Bill. Such a kind, non-hating and _forgiving_ person. She suddenly felt her cheeks redden as she reached for a light sheet to cover herself with. Bill walked into the room and sat in a chair beside her bed, Hermione gazed at him – his hair was cut short and he wore an eye-patch. She didn't want to know how he had come across the many scars he possessed, like so many of the other Weasley's. She cringed at the thought of how Ginny received hers.

"I best warn you before I go get Mum," he began folding his arms in his lap. "They have lots of questions and very little answers, since Ginny's still out of it. Prepare to be inundated."

"Thanks for the warning," Hermione replied in a somewhat sarcastic manner, it hurt to speak and her voice was dry. She winced at the movement. "How'd I get these?" One of her arms motioned from her head down to her torso before collapsing back to her side weakly; he followed her gaze with pursed lips.

"You fell on your head after the dementor slit your throat, its finished healing now though. You had a couple bruised ribs; they should be done by now too." he answered.

Her brow creased. "My ribs?"

"Dementor lifted you a few feet, but Ron's Patronus stopped it. You were already unconscious but you would have been anyway. You hit the ground pretty hard."

Hermione couldn't comprehend any other word after she heard his name. "Ron's here?" she asked breathlessly.

Bill looked at her sternly, then stated. "After your parents were killed…"

"How do you know my parents were murdered?" Hermione interrupted again, feeling as bemused as ever.

"Neville told me," he said lightly. "He was on a mission for the Order when he noticed the Defensive Charms around your parent's house had been breached. He went to see what happened, to save them, but they were already dead by the time he arrived. He said he saw a woman there and saved her, but didn't tell us who. It was you though, wasn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "After I came here I was so confused with nowhere to go, so I went home. But Malfoy got there first."

Her eyes glazed over with hatred, Bill looked at her with kindness. "After they were killed and I was told of your visit to the Burrow I knew something was amiss. Then Ron had news that you came across Webster Place… well, either way, I believe you. I believe something strange is happening to you in order for you to forget ten years of your –"

"Thank you," Hermione's voice was barely a whisper. "All I wanted… was for someone to believe me. _Thank you_…"

Bill gave her a questioning look and stood from the chair. "I'll go tell everyone you're up. Be right back."

Hermione hid her face with her hands – she felt happy. After so long, she felt happy.

_Thank you._

--

A few minutes later, Hermione heard the rushing of footsteps coming upstairs as Mrs. Weasley was the first to barge into the room, following close on her heels were Fred, George, Bill and eventually, Ron and Harry. Before she could think of how to react, Mrs. Weasley grasped her into a fierce embrace, swaying at the impact. The hug had caught Hermione completely off guard, she found herself getting tearful again.

After a couple moments, Mrs. Weasley released her, dabbing her eyes with a small handkerchief.

"Oh Hermione!" she said with a sobbing smile into the frilly, white hankie that almost melded with her hair. "You saved her!"

"Let's not jump to conclusions Mum," George snapped from the door. "After all –"

"– Ginny could have been trying to get _away_ from her." Fred finished with the same drawling tone.

"Don't be foolish," Mrs. Weasley muttered, patting Hermione's hand warmly. "Now Hermione…"

Nobody had time to continue since more footsteps were heard and Bonnie scurried into the room, looking about breathlessly. She was about to speak, but her eyes landed on Hermione. "'Ello again, 'Ermione," she said firstly, then added quickly. "Ginny's awake and heading this way," she glanced around nervously as if she were in trouble, "Ah couldn't stop her. Determined wee thing."

"_What_?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.

The group by the door separated to see Ginny, covered in bandages and the minor bruises Hermione didn't heal, limping into the room and stared at her for a solid minute. She then shook, threatening to fall before Bill and Harry grabbed an arm each to keep her steady. "Thanks," Ginny mumbled to Hermione. "You know… for helping me."

Mrs. Weasley rounded on Fred and George with an "I told you so" glare before scolding Ginny for being out of bed. Most people in the room looked completely uncertain – waiting for answers. Ron wouldn't look her in the eye, no matter how hard she tried to seize his attention. "Its okay," Hermione replied to her with a coy smile. "Thanks for trusting me."

"So," Bill stated, he was trying to avoid an awkward silence. "Is anyone going to tell us the story? What happened and all that kind of juicy information we're all just dying to hear?" he looked between both Hermione and Ginny who were sitting on the small, old bed with blankets tucked around them. "Ginny, will you start?"

"Bill!" Mrs. Weasley snapped, swiping at his shoulder. "After what she been through…"

Ginny shot a look of daggers at her mother. "Mum! _I_… I am too…" The overwhelming emotion of irritation seemed to have tired her as she pressed her hand to her head, wincing.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips together. "My point exactly. You shouldn't even be out of –"

"This is getting us nowhere," Bill interrupted. "If we seriously want to know what took place, the most logical thing to do would be to get the relation in order. Bits and pieces as well as going back and forth through time won't suffice. Ginny was there at the beginning, Hermione wasn't. She should go first." Neither Mrs. Weasley nor any of the others opposed, though Harry looked incredibly close to doing so.

_He must still care about her…_ Hermione thought. "Ginny, if you please…" Bill urged.

Though it was unnecessary since Ginny had already started her account before his sentence was complete.

--

Ginny informed them of her mission and capture, the gruesome details of her torture and her rough travels to the Malfoy Manor. She had been watching a suspicious character to gather information on Voldemort and his plans but she had gotten caught snooping about the office of a Death Eater and was thrown into a cellar – she didn't know where – and was tortured for information on the Order. Hermione learnt all this started happening a week ago. When the Death Eaters were unsuccessful, Voldemort told them to put her in the "custody" of the Malfoy's, his most loyal servants. Hermione almost scoffed, but managed to contain herself as she was told to enlighten them on her side of the story.

She explained the background information concerning her memory, with Bill nodding encouragingly. Hermione also stated the rescue of Ginny and the flee from Malfoy Manor in as much detail as she would an essay. Once all questions had been answered, Hermione gathered up her courage and added: "I want to be in the Order."

The first person she looked at was Ron – but through each and every discussion he seemed to have found something extremely interesting on his shoe to stare at unless he was directly spoken to. Next to catch her eye was Harry. He'd seem to be thinking very hard about everything that was occurring and seemed to have drawn, as his result, a blank expression.

Fred and George stood beside them; they both glanced at each other, first in bewilderment, then outrage. Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Ginny looked concerned but accepting. Bill was the first to speak. "Alright, I don't see why not." he stated as a smile replaced his considering phase.

Fred was second. "Are you stark-raving mad?" he demanded. "Just because you've forgiven her doesn't mean the rest of us are just going to jump the bandwagon! She doesn't deserve it!"

"I'm alive and here _right now_ because of Hermione!" Ginny shot at her twin brothers.

"One good deed doesn't drown-out ten years of wickedness!" George stated bitterly.

"Have you not been listening?" Ginny resorted. "Hermione doesn't remember anything about –"

"_What a load of dragon dung_!"

"Enough!" Bill roared over the quarrelling voice, once everyone had calmed he spoke again. "Harry, as Head of the Order and Dumbledore's successor, what do you say?"

Hermione felt tense and her throat still numb, gazed across to Harry who had a slight pause. "The Order…" Harry began, striding into the middle of the room with his hands clasped behind his back. "The Order needs information. A Malfoy on our side could be the line between failure and victory. As much as I hate to admit it," another small silence, "we need a spy. So I say: welcome to the Order Hermione." Harry gave her a slight glance, a frown of thought then added. "Have her perform the Oath when possible."

He stole a quick look at Ginny before exiting the room, Fred and George both storming after him, with Ron and Bonnie holding hands, also departing the small space. Hermione looked on sadly. Bill was the last to leave aside from Ginny. "Great to have you back Hermione." he whispered.

--

Hermione had moved into Ginny's room for the night after the red-head insisted it reminded her of the "old times". Most of the Weasley's were a lot warmer to her now, Ginny included, so it made her feel less alone. The girls were told not to chat since they both needed their sleep, so they promised to talk more in the morning. Hermione, for the first time, fell asleep in high spirits that night. But her dreams were clouded and kept speaking the same words over and over:

_Torture. Kill. Serve._

* * *

**Teehee, another chappie! The next chapter is longer than the rest for some reason. My hands just wouldn't stop typing!** **If you have any ideas, suggestions or questions I'll be glad to answer you as much as I can without giving anything away! **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly **


	8. A Massacre

**Disclaimer: I do now own Harry Potter.**

**Thank-you reviewers! Chapters are getting longer just for you! Hehe!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven:**

_She was in a large room, the kind that echoes at every sound. Every breath, every step, every scream bounced off the walls and made her grin. There was a chandelier above their heads, hers and the victim's._ _Her victim. Her wand was held in one hand, a common cigarette lighter in the other as she flicked it on and off impatiently. _

_Click. On. _

_Flick. Off. _

_Click. On._

_Flick. Off. _

"_Tell me," she said smoothly, running her hand along the table where groups of knives sat. "How many days does it take for a Gryffindor to crack?" She dropped the lighter and grasped the smallest blade, slitting the victim's throat effortlessly and watched the blood pour down upon her. She grinned, cocked her head to the side as the individual started to splutter, gasping for air. _"_No days," Hermione answered, running her hands across her the mans mouth with his own blood. "He's usually dead by then."_

_The body went limp. _

--

Hermione awoke with a jumping start, sweat on her brow and her breath in panicking pants. It was barely dawn outside the warded and bared window, Ginny was still fast asleep, her injuries had completely healed over the night. _A nightmare… it was just a nightmare. _But she could still smell the blood on her hands. She could still feel how easily the knife cut through skin like warm butter. _I think I'm going to be sick… _Hermione shoved away the covers of the bed and kneeled on the floor, trying to get the thoughts out of her head. They were too much to bear. She had enjoyed it – she felt pleasure at the mans pain. She had craved it.

She whimpered faintly, but it was enough for Ginny to sit up in her bunk, she looked towards Hermione's bed then around the room until her eyes landed on the girl on the ground. "Hermione?" Ginny whispered with concern, kneeling beside her. "What's wrong? What happened?" Her eyes narrowed. "Was it Fred and George?"

"No," Hermione answered with a sad smile. "I… I just had a nightmare. It's okay. _I'm_ okay, thank you."

Ginny looked uncertain but stood, helping Hermione to her feet. "If you're sure."

Both of them then headed downstairs for breakfast, almost everyone were already at the table or helping Mrs. Weasley with the oatmeal and pancakes. Once everyone was eating, Bill, again trying to avoid an awkward silence, started a conversation on what Hermione already knew about Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

"Well, there's going to be a meeting tonight at the Malfoy Manor. I'll see what I can pull from that and come around tomorrow." she stated, sipping her orange juice casually.

"I'm pretty sure Malfoy will be downright fuming," Fred said gleefully, "with Ginny gone and his wife going spy and all…"

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed, dropping her spoon. "Malfoy has no idea where I am! _What the hell am I going to tell him_?"

--

"What do you mean, Blondie-bear?" Hermione asked with a slight pout, just like she had practiced. "Where else would I have gone? Of course I went after that Weasley after she escaped! But she managed to get to that hovel of hers before I could do anything, like kill her, for instance."

"The Dark Lord won't be very pleased with us or anyone by her escape." Draco growled, swigging his Fire Whiskey by the fireplace, where they both sat in black leather armchairs while the House Elves brought them lunch on silver-platters.

"Yes, well, I couldn't just stop her – I was knocked unconscious for a couple minutes you know."

_Smooth Hermione, real smooth. Now tell him you can balance on a bowling ball while juggling clocks. _"Are you alright?" Malfoy inquired, gently reaching for the swelling bump on her head that she had made Ginny pull off before she left the Burrow, using George's idea of the vase with great Aunt Muriel's ashes.

"I'm fine," Hermione said, touching the spot gingerly. "But _she_ won't be if I ever get my hands on the little brat."

Draco smirked, pulled her into a brief kiss and embrace. "Dinners at five. Meetings at six. Be ready by then, the Dark Lord won't tolerate delay."

_So, He _is_ coming. Fan-bloody-tastic. _

--

Hermione spent the whole day observing the House Elves, and secretly helping them, decorate and tidy the Manor. She visited the kitchens to test-try the entrées, meals and desserts, though trying to decide between the different servings was one of the hardest decisions she had to make. Night fell and Hermione's mental strain was running an all-time high.

_Oh Merlin… this cant be good for my health… _

Half-an-hour before their guests were to arrive, Draco marched the corridors to make sure everything was in place, complementing Hermione on her good-taste in table decoration and food choice. Millie selected a beautiful black and emerald gown for her; though the corset was tied so tight she could barely breathe without damaging something. "It is suppose to be like that, Mistress." Mille had stated obviously.

Malfoy and herself waited at the door, with another House Elf standing by to open it and take coats. Hermione was fidgeting with the front of her dress robes; Draco grasped her hand to make her stop the un-ladylike habit. She was reminded of Ron and Bonnie holding hands so tenderly – this made her feel worse.

The first to arrive was Pansy Parkinson and her husband Nicolas Finn, the man Ginny had been investigating, the man who tortured her. Hermione already had a strong hate for the couple, Finn looked like one of the villains in an old television show with his suspicious facial-hair. Draco showed them to their seats whilst making light conversation, leaving Hermione to escort the other company once they arrived.

Most others came within five minutes, since it was very unlike a Pureblood to be late to such a gathering. Everyone was settled into a chair on the long table, about twelve including Malfoy and herself, all of which were considered Voldemort's Inner Circle. Only the Head of the table was empty, Hermione was seated to the right of it and Draco to the left.

Then came the waiting – nothing but mere, small exchange of speech being thrown around the room like a badly organized ping-pong match.

"Lovely napkins."

"I adore your dress, Hermione."

"So _I_ said to Penelope…"

"Have you heard of that new sun-breeze fragrance?"

"Your table setting is divine, Hermione!"

"You really must come over for some delightful jasmine-leaf tea more often!"

"And so _Penelope_ said…"

Hermione then knew a possibility as to why she had blocked out ten years of this hell.

--

She felt a chill. A screech of the handles as Jixey – a rather twitchy and jumpy House Elf – opened the entrance door and allowed in a figure wearing a dark cloak, with long, slender fingers and scarlet eyes shinning on his snake-like features. The serpent Nagini was wrapped around the shoulders of Lord Voldemort as he took his place at the Head of the table.

Nobody dared speak until he did. "Malfoy's," Voldemort stated. "Such a pleasure, as always, to be in your home."

If it were possible, Voldemort scared her now more than he ever did back ten years in the past. He was but a measly foot away from her; he had the power of the Ministry and Death Eaters at his command. A wand in his pocket, blackness in his soul; he could kill her in an instant. "And the pleasure is ours, as always, my Lord." Draco replied humbly.

"Hermione," Voldemort whispered softly, almost dotingly. "You seem distracted."

She tried to keep her pulse under control since she was positive he might smell her fear. "No, my Lord," Hermione said, looking at him with a twisted smile. "I am just honoured to be in your presence." Voldemort sneered back; she had a distorted feeling that _she_ was his favourite.

"Well," Draco began. "A grand feast prepared for such a noble occasion."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Nothing but the best."

As they spoke the doors to the kitchens were opened and thirteen House Elves, Millie among them, trotted in, carrying saucers of the finest food Hermione had ever seen. The aroma was enough to lift her off her feet. Millie placed Hermione's entrée of provencale prawn and pistou soup in front of her; as did every other of the House Elf to each guest.

"Now," Voldemort started, lightly picking up his cutlery. "How go the rebels, Zabini?"

Blaise Zabini sat two seats away from Draco, gulping down his serving before answering. "Down another five percent, my Lord."

"Good. And what of the Order, Hermione?" Voldemort inquired, spitting the name. "What did you manage to pry from that Weasley before the _inconvenience_?"

She thought of everything she knew on the Order, then narrowed it down to things the Death Eaters would get the least amount of information from… Then she narrowed it down further. "Well, her words were sort of slurred after I cut her tongue – trying to loosen it, you see," she started, Voldemort nodding in an odd type of approval. "Their all still afraid of me, that's for sure. But she just kept muttering about information. That's all I got out of her, a whole lot of nothing." then added in a smaller tone: "Useless slime."

Everyone seated gave a sign of agreement.

Next placed on the table, in large serving dishes, was smocked salmon and mixed-pea pasta along with chicken Caesar salad and poached eggs. The House Elves filled up their plates and returned to the kitchen once again. "Hermione is right," Finn said, "the Weasley wouldn't talk, I thought she would have to be tortured to insanity like the Lovegoods, but she was lucky enough to escape once Malfoy's back was turned."

"It was a shame," Hermione stated quickly. "I would have loved sending her home to her family in pieces. First her ear… then a finger…"

"Then her nose and a toe! Hermione you _really_ have a yen to hurt this family." A woman in a black satin dress stated joyously.

Hermione gave her best smirk, it felt strange. "What can I say?" she said innocently, shrugging. "Extermination is the only way I will be able to breathe without the thought I could be sharing the same air as these people." There was a wave of laughter and consenting statements.

"I couldn't have said it better myself!" Draco exclaimed.

More time passed and the main meal of roast beef with horseradish and mustard was taken out and eaten. Then came dessert, which consisted of many cakes and tarts, truffles, banana meringue pies and puddings, all served with tea and coffee. Jixey supplied everyone with fresh plates with shaking hands, Voldemort grasped onto the Elf with an immoral leer.

"Nagini," Voldemort cooed cruelly. "Dinner's served."

Jixey trembled as the snake advanced on her; Hermione looked on in horror, thrusting her eyes away as the serpent squeezed the life out of the House Elf who was screeching in pain and fright. The others laughed and watched as they would entertainment, they didn't notice her disgust from the act. Then all fell quiet.

"Now my friends," Voldemort continued casually, entwining his fingers. "We should get back to business."

--

The next morning, once Hermione had managed to flee the watchful eyes of Malfoy, she walked into the Burrow, her face held no expression from all the fears that were eating inside her from the previous night. The Weasley's welcomed her, but turned grave as the stench of terrible news hit them like an anvil.

"A massacre." Hermione whispered. Nobody spoke.

* * *

**Well, what do you think? Please feel free to suggest any theories or ideas, they are, of course, welcome!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	9. Get Out

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Thanks so much for reviews! You make this story possible!

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**

"He's planning a massacre?" Ginny inquired, collapsing back into her chair. "What does he want to do?"

"He wants to wipe-out everyone that's left," Hermione said solemnly, "about two weeks from now."

"Two weeks?" Fred said loudly. "That's barely enough time to prepare!"

"What else did they say Hermione?" Bill asked, tapping on the table rhythmically as he appeared deep in thought.

"Um…" _What else could be of use?_ "They… err… _really_ don't like you guys."

"Who didn't know that!"

"Fred!" Ginny snapped.

"We're talking about a Final War, Ginny!" he spat. "Which means, two weeks from now, we're all dead! So _sorry_ if I sound a little cranky!"

"You can't think that way." Hermione said desperately.

"Well what other way can we think of it?" George stated hotly. "We can't just –"

"Stop it, all of you!" Everyone turned their heads to see Harry along with Ron and Bonnie at the doorway, mouths hard-set showed clearly they knew there was a grave situation. "We came as soon as we heard." he added to Mrs. Weasley who had sent for them not long ago when Hermione first arrived. "Can someone tell us what on earths going on?"

"Oh," Fred said sarcastically. "Just the total destruction of everything worth living for. Not much to worry about, apparently."

"Did weh miss something?" Bonnie asked, looking at Ron with a bewildered face, clenching his shirt.

"Voldemort's planning to kill us all," Ginny stated bluntly. "Nothing new."

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "What happened?"

"He's – going – to – _kill_ – us - _all_." Ginny said slowly.

Mrs. Weasley snapped at her youngest child. "This is no time to be joking, Ginny!"

"Mums right, Gin," Bill said suddenly, heading for the door. "I've got to go, something has come up."

"Where are you going?" Mrs. Weasley asked fretfully. "You know you can't leave the house alone!"

Bill stopped before exiting the house. "I'll be fine," he insisted. "I'll be back before its dark."

He opened the door and closed it behind him, Hermione watched curiously at his sudden departure before leaping to her feet and running after him, everyone else watching and Ron turning an odd shade of pink as she brushed past him; this fact remained unnoticed by Bonnie who had turned bone-white. "_Bill_!" Hermione called, closing the entrance to the Burrow once more, relying undoubtedly on the protective charms surrounding them.

He was almost to the gate but paused as she rushed towards him, he looked bewildered. "What's wrong Hermione?" he asked, genuinely worried with creased brow and glassy eyes.

"N-Nothing," she spluttered, it was cold and her teeth were chattering. "It's just…" Hermione hesitated. "I… I don't know who else I can talk to. I've been having these dreams, ones where I'm torturing people; like they wanted me to do with Ginny. But… I don't think there dreams. I think…" she gulped. "I think…"

"That's it's your past?"

He picked the thoughts out of her mind. "Yeah."

"I won't deny it, Hermione," Bill stated tightly. "You've done horrible, _horrible_ things, to good people."

She breathed in the frosty air thickly, creating a cloud of clear vapour. "Tell me," she insisted forcefully, "tell me about my past. Please Bill," her eyes were begging. "You're the only one I can trust right now to tell me the truth, the _whole_ truth and not bother to try and spare my feelings or make me feel worse about myself."

He leaned on the gate, arms crossed. "Alright," he whispered. "I'll tell you." Hermione prepared herself for Bill to continue. "After you graduated from Hogwarts," he began sombrely, "the Death Eaters attacked the Burrow. Draco Malfoy was among them. He took you and Ron was devastated, it was said in the_ Daily Prophet_ a week later that you married him. So Ron went looking for you, we were all convinced you had married under threat or force."

Bill paused, gazing at Hermione; she had been listening with all her might but appeared to have dozed off…

--

_She felt the breeze of his breath on her neck, the glare of his grey eyes. Smashes and screams were heard coming from the home not even a yard away - the cries of her second family. _"_I can offer you and your friend's protection," Malfoy sneered. "Marry me, Granger, and your safe," He looked over his shoulder towards the house, "and so are they." Tears prickled, the Death Eaters were a diversion for Malfoy to get her. If any of the Weasley's or Harry got hurt… _

_She couldn't bare it. _

"_Alright Malfoy," Hermione mumbled dazedly. "You win." _

_Draco smirked in triumph, as he brushed past her towards the Burrows gates, his black cloak billowing, his white mask still clenched in his hand. "Are you coming, darling?" _

_Hermione followed, it was harder to turn her back on the Burrow than she could have ever imagined. _

--

"Hermione?" Bill said, grasping her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Hermione are you alright?"

"Huh?" she gasped, her head throbbing. "Oh, sorry, I… I'm fine." she claimed. "Please continue."

He looked like he was going to object but her tone was firm. He sighed at her stubbornness.

"When Ron found you, you turned him away, saying you loved Malfoy and he was just a pawn; a useless idiot with no common knowledge to ever be near the likes of you." he paused, "well, you sure hurt him. It took Ron _years_ to get over you, and just when he finally meets Bonnie, someone who surprisingly acts just like you when you _really_ get talking to her, and when they _finally_ get engaged. There you are," Bill giving her a sad smile. "Just how he remembered you."

She felt it again… the sudden doze – like a dream, but you're awake – floating between two worlds.

--

"Hermione_!" Ron exclaimed, as he ran up to her and scooped her in his arms, spinning her around wildly. _

_With his usual goofy grin. _"_What are you doing here?" she snapped as he placed her back onto the floor. "_Weasley_?" she added bitterly._

_He looked at her oddly, his expression changed abruptly to worry and determination. "I'm getting you out of here," he said firmly. "Merlin knows what Malfoy's done to you! We need to get you somewhere safe. Everyone is so worried; we've been plotting for days. You'll feel much better when I get you home again."_

"_No!" she stated coldly. "Don't you get it? I don't want to leave, I want to be here." _

"_Hermione," Ron said steadily. "You're not well. That git –"_

"_That _git _is my husband," she spat. "Whom I _love_!" _

_He gazed at her with narrowed eyes. "You don't know what you're saying. You don't mean that." he interpreted. _

"_No, _you_ don't know what _you're_ saying," she groaned impatiently, like speaking to a stubborn child, fingers tight on the counter beside a stack of clean dishes. "I don't love you, I _never_ loved you. The only way I could put up with the sight of you and your touch was… was to pretend you were Draco!"_

_His smile fell. "Is that so?"_

"_Yes," Hermione said curtly. "Who would love you? You're a great lumbering idiot with as much common sense as a tea-cosy! _Get out_!" Ron turned his back, his expression mixed with anger and sadness. _"_GET OUT!" Hermione yelled, hurling a plate towards him. "And don't even think about coming near me again! You and your other little associates! _GET OUT_!" He did, ducking the shattering china and ran out of the house._

_Hermione let out a shaking sigh, her hands trembled. Malfoy appeared from the shadows where he watched the scene with a sneer. _"_You see?" he whispered to her, his arms wrapped around her securely as they both watch Ron's exit down the path. "Now that their gone, it'll be much easier for you. Learn to hate them, and everything will be fine." he promised. _

_She didn't believe him. He let her go, and walked towards the parlour. _

"_But go near them again," he hissed. "And I'll kill them all." _

--

Hermione wheezed in breaths, finding herself on the ground with the dirt as Bill leaned over her with worry.

"Go… on. Please." she urged, her gasps still in pants.

"I'm going to stop," Bill stated determinedly. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

"_NO_!" she exclaimed, then coughed and spluttered. "I… I'm starting to remember! _Please_…"

"No Hermione," he said gruffly. "I'll tell you more later – but right now, I have an idea. We'll talk when I get back, I promise."

He helped her from the floor and back towards the house. "Okay." she sighed.

He Apparated.

--

Hermione walked slowly back towards the kitchen. It surprised her that she and Bill had only been talking for ten minutes. Her visions seemed to have lasted longer than that, or rather, her memories. She halted just before entering, they were talking. About her. "I still don't trust her," Fred said. "Out of all of us, Harry should know that."

"He's blinded." George stated. "And still after all she's done…"

"_Ahem_…" another voice said shortly, followed by an aggravated sigh. "I'm standing _right here_."

"Oh Harry!" George said in sarcastic surprise. "I really didn't see you there…"

"She preformed the Oath," Ginny said intolerantly. "What more proof do you want?"

Hermione had indeed completed the Loyalty Oath, before she left for the meeting at the Malfoy Manor. It consisted of a couple spells similar to the ones she had placed on the Dumbledore's Army form in their fifth year at Hogwarts. She couldn't speak about the Order to any one that might cause a threat, and if she tried her words would just be mindless babble, also alerting the other Order members of what she had tried to do. Not that she would of course.

"What I want," Fred said piercingly, "is her hightailing her bad-ass carcass _out of here_!"

She couldn't pretend that she wasn't hurt by his words; the twins seemed rather unaffected by any of her good actions. Concluding no more good feeling would come out of her listening, she removed her ear from the door and moved in the direction of the stairs, walked up a couple of flights and into the nearest room until she spotted movement in the corner of her eye. It wasn't the Ghoul that lived in the attic nor the hobbling House Elf Kreacher that she was told now lived there. It was Ron.

She was alone in this room with Ronald Weasley.

Once she entered the door closed behind her, though it was not her doing, startling Ron into turning around and spotting her. _Damn_, she cursed, fiddling with the handle – it was locked. "You don't, by any chance, have the key, do you?" she asked gingerly. It took him a couple of moments, but he shook his head.

_Great…_

--

Minutes of undisturbed silence. Some would find it soothing, looking forward to their moment of peace during the day. Hermione use to be one of them. Until _now_. Ron and herself sat on complete opposite ends of the bed, the only thing that was populating the room. They had been sitting in the same position for about thirty minutes now. An hour... Ron started to pace the room, then sat back down. An hour and a half... Hermione sat still fiddling with a stray piece of thread on her dress.

No one had come looking for them and neither seemed willing to speak. Hermione decided to take the lunge.

"Ron," she said in her softest tone. "I… I've _really_ missed you. We haven't exactly had time to talk…"

She edged closer to him, hoping for a positive reaction. "Your right," he said stiffly. "No time to talk."

Closer. "Ron…" He looked at her, she looked back. How she had missed the soothing blue of his eyes… Closer... Their lips were about to meet when Ron gasped and tumbled off the bed. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked fretfully, blinking and gazing about for any signs of oncoming danger.

"What's wrong?" Ron exclaimed. "What's wrong? I'm _engaged_ Hermione! I can't just go around, I… I…" he sighed in frustration, returning to his seat side her, yet again inches apart. His head rested in his cupped hands that resided on his knees. "I really do care about Bonnie… and then you, you came back and –"

There was a click and the door opened, Harry stood there with a serious expression.

Ron whirled around, obviously upset about being interrupted. "_What is it_?"

His face remained still despite Ron's tone.

"Bill's dead."

* * *

**Sorry it took so long to upload but here it is - chapter eight! Enjoy!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	10. Gravestones

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Loving the reviews!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

Everyone was clustered into the cramped kitchen, Mrs. Weasley was sobbing quietly in the corner where piles of old cookbooks were stacked on the mantelpiece. Ginny, Ron, Fred and George, Harry and Bonnie were seated at the table, expressions as thick as stone to prevent tears from falling. Hermione couldn't do it – she hadn't been toughened like the others had with all the other deaths and pain. She joined Mrs. Weasley, tears leaking down her face, she didn't bother wiping them. She didn't bother hiding her sadness.

She didn't bother hiding her pain.

_Why? _Her thoughts had concluded. _Why him? Why now?_

Mrs. Weasley embraced her, both women weeping on each others' shoulders.

_Why? _

--

In the garden three graves laid with polished stone marking their name, Ginny explained how no proper funeral could be held anymore, so families had to bury the dead in their own backyard and perform certain spells or risk letting them fall under the control of Voldemort as Inferi. The first stone appeared to have been there the longest – it had the name of Charlie Weasley engraved on it and the earth beneath it was smooth with age, grass sprouting all over. The second read _Arthur Weasley_, not as aged as the grave before it but with less grass.

The third stone said _Percy Weasley_; it was by far the newest grave in the yard – aside from the freshly hollowed space beside it where Bill's lifeless body laid, covered in a thin layer of silk. The finest the Weasley's could afford. Hermione and Ginny stood beside each other as Bill's grave was refilled with soil and his name carved into stone like that of his father and brothers before him.

"I've been to too many funerals," Ginny whispered to her. "Too many. It makes me wonder when it will be mine."

"It won't be," Hermione said to her, thickness in her voice. "Not if I have something to say about it."

"There are only five of us now," Ginny stated, her voice shaking. "Just _five_."

"I've had enough." Hermione stuttered, turning away from the yard, trudging back towards the house.

"Where are you going?" Ginny called after her, concern in her voice.

"I'm going back to the Manor," Hermione said simply. "For the last time."

--

Apparating to the Manor had become a chore for too long. It ends today.

The pathway leading towards it seemed to last forever – her head clogged with Bill's face. Her mind racing with memories that didn't consist of her past, but of the few moments they had spent together, every time he showed he trusted her. A true person she could call friend, family.

--

"_What the Order _does_ know," Bill was saying at breakfast, "is that Voldemort has no more need for Legilimency, he considers it beneath him now. He can know when someone's lying to him, but as long as you avoid the subjects of Ginny getting past you or that of the Order, keep a clear head and don't bunch your thoughts, you'll be fine." he added a sly smile. "He won't suspect you." _

--

Hermione was almost there now – the Malfoy Manor was closely approaching…

She had a strong urge to kick the albino peacock she met along the path.

--

_She was feeling horribly shaken. What if they knew she had become a spy? What if she gave something away? The terror gripped her that she may somehow reveal her new loyalty to the Order, her worst fear to betray them. her stomach formed a deep pit that was slowly sucking the warmth of her breath, leaving her tongue dry. _

"_Hermione!" Bill called, grinning at her. "Good luck!" _

_He gave her a thumbs-up as she Apparated. _

--

She reached the door, but it opened before she touched it, Millie standing at its frame, a large, discoloured bruise swelling on her head. She had a rag wrapped around one arm; she looked like she'd been brutally beaten. "Millie!" Hermione cried out breathlessly. "What happened? Who did this to you?" she demanded, closing the door behind herself.

"Mistress," Millie squeaked. "Millie can't say. Millie won't! Won't! _Won't_!"

The House Elf looked distressed and utterly terrified, this made her worry more. "Millie," Hermione stated firmly. "I order you to tell me what happened!" The Elf gave her a pleading stare, then began to speak mutely, her mouth moving but no sound emerged. "Millie!" she snapped again. "_I __order you_!"

Another squeak, Millie shook and let out a shaking sigh.

"Why would it tell you anything?" a cold tone said. "It's not like you care."

"Draco," Hermione said in surprise, swallowing suddenly. "You're home early."

The man stood at the back of the entrance hall near the staircase, he had an odd sort of air around him as he walked slowly towards her, his expression plain and his eyes pinned her on the spot. He stood in front of her. "Yes," he stated shortly. "I had a rather interesting visit today."

"Really?" she inquired, shifting her feet. "From whom? Zabini?"

He looked at her in a way she did not recognize, then leaned closer to her. "A Weasley." Draco muttered, his face twisted into a scowl. He slapped her. Hard. "A _William Weasley_." She staggered and hit a nearby table, tasting blood – her eyes widened as she quivered. He hit her again. "Do you have _any_ idea of what that blood-traitor scum was talking about?"

Hermione yelped as he struck her again. "Stop!" she exclaimed, she fumbled feebly for her wand, but it landed with a clatter on the floor. "_Stop_!"

Draco paused. "Hermione," he whispered, her name rolling off his tongue like a possession. "Questions. You _know_ I don't like them. Why was that Weasley asking questions?" She was crying – she didn't mean to, she didn't want to show weakness. Her wand was out of reach, she felt vulnerable. Defenceless. Helpless. Weak. Draco lifted her roughly onto her feet, her wobbling knees shook and he held her in place. "WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?" he roared.

--

A limp and hobble, blood trickling down her chin, a bruise forming on her arm from where he grabbed her and her stomach in painful knots of where she'd been kicked repeatedly. Her eyes swelled and her lip slit, she could feel her head throbbing in three different places and her fingers were numb. She wondered vaguely if one was broken. Hermione staggered into the doorways of the Burrow and collapsed at someone's feet as soon as the door opened. Harry.

"Hermione?" it was the first time in a long while she had heard alarm in his tone. "What happened?"

She stifled a laugh as she dabbed her cut lip gently. "My idiocy." she stated quietly.

--

"_I'm _leaving_!" Hermione screamed, blood splattering on his robes as she spoke. _

"_Oh no you don't!" Draco growled, grasping her shoulders and shaking her violently. "You think you can just leave? By now I thought you'd know the consequences, especially since but _hours_ ago I killed another one of your little Weasley friends! When will you learn Hermione? When will you learn there are consequences for your actions?" _

"_You killed Bill." Hermione whispered, her eyes lined with tears. "You _killed _him?" _

"_Yes," Malfoy spat smugly. "Shouldn't be nosing about, now should he? Useless wretch." _

_It took all her strength to leap at him with a snarl, knocking him to the ground - she pinned him there and slapped his cheek with one quick swipe, she scratched him in the process, his blood sticking to her nails. _"_Bill Weasley was twice the man you could ever be!" Hermione stated darkly. "MURDERER!" __Draco scowled and shoved her off him; she staggered and hit the wall, still screaming. _"MURDERER_!" _

_He stood and pushed her to the ground, kicking her in the ribs again… and again…_

--

"… and _again_," Hermione said with a shaking and sobbing voice, she was sitting across from Harry who was listening. "I was so scared… I didn't know what to do…" She was surprised when he leaned over and hugged her, held her as she wept, she felt safe.

"Its okay Hermione," he said soothingly, stroking her hair. "You're home now, with your family."

She tried to blink the tears away and swallowed hard. "Thank you Harry. Malfoy didn't know I was a spy, he never said anything about that. He was just livid about Bill."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "Well," he began; he seemed lost for words, overwhelmed with an emotion she had trouble determining. "Let's go get you cleaned up, everyone's really worried."

"Really?" Hermione asked in a dull tone as Harry helped her off her feet. "I would have thought they were hoping I was finally dead, celebrating probably. I'll hate to disappoint them."

Harry laughed, the sound felt unusual against her ears. Laughter that wasn't cruel or an indecent cackle, that wasn't resulted into someone's torture or pain. "You'll see," Harry stated with a smile. "Come on." He led her into the kitchen; everyone was clustered around the table, talking in hushed voices. Harry stopped her by the door and signalled her to listen, she was obviously confused at his action but caught words every now and then, 'Hermione' they said, 'rescue' they whispered.

It hurt to smile – but she did anyway. _They care… _

Harry carried her into the kitchen; everyone stopped immediately and stared at them, mostly eyeing Hermione's injuries.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley cried in relief, Harry leaned close to her ear. Hermione yelped, clenching her stomach.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed with concern. "Are you okay? Who did this? What happened?"

Hermione gave a lopsided smile. "Its okay, it doesn't matter. Let's just say, I won't be welcome at Voldemort's table anymore."

"We would rather have you at ours." Everyone swapped glances. If she hadn't seen Fred's mouth move she would never have believed it. When Mrs. Weasley backed away to fetch her wand, Harry returned to his position in helping Hermione steady herself. Ron caught her eye; he stood up from beside Bonnie and helped Harry support her. "He's right," he agreed with a blushing shrug. "We all missed you; it's only horrible it took Bill's…" he swallowed. "Bill's death to see it."

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes. "You have no idea…"

"'Ermione?" Bonnie said gently, brows relaxed. "Why are yeh crying?"

"You just have no idea…" Hermione sobbed. "How much this means to me…" she looked about all the faces in the room. "I'm so happy; this means _so much_ to me. I'm so happy…"

_So happy…_ "Come here Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'll heal those for you."

Harry and Ron tugged her along and balanced her while Mrs. Weasley cast many different spells and opened foul smelling jars of things Hermione didn't _really_ want smeared all over her. "Ahem," Harry said, all fell silent at the sound. "Hate to pick up an Umbridge trait, but don't we have a war to plan?"

"And a wedding!" Bonnie piped in cheerfully. Hermione managed a small scowl. _What am I to do about that? _

--

They all sat at the table, no one had spoken much, the air itself seemed too deep. Hermione took in a breath and stood. "If I may," Hermione said thickly, picking up a full goblet with her newly-healed arm and raising it above her head. "To Bill Weasley," she stated proudly. "May his joys be as bright as the morning, and may our sorrows be but shadows that fade in his light. May he rest in eternal peace."

"To Bill," the room chorused. "May he rest in peace."

* * *

**NOTE TO ALL DRACO LOVERS: Please don't kill me! I really don't enjoy writing him this way and I certainly don't think thats what he's like or what he'll become. Don't hunt me down, I really am a Ferret Fan myself. Just trust me for now - all will work out in time, you'll see! Promise. Seriously. **

**Also, sorry I haven't posted in a while, I kind of rushed this... sorry! But I have a good reason - exams! We all hate 'em!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	11. Bonnie Cullen

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Special thanks to tamara72 and others who wanted to know more about Bonnie. You inspired this chapter! Hope this helps your questions about her!**

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**

A good nights' sleep was more than she deserved, when her mind was full of faces she will only ever see again in her memories. Her parents, she missed them more than anyone – it was mainly the little things. The way her mother would stroke her hair every time she'd brushed past, laughing together when her fingers got tangled in the bushy, brown mess. The Saturdays her father was forced to endure one of Hermione's children films during the kick-off, and the way he would always sit with her and watch them anyway.

Just the little things.

But Hermione Granger wasn't one to see the glass half empty.

She couldn't tell the Weasley's that Malfoy, her _sort of_ husband, had killed Bill, and she couldn't ever bring herself to ask them of what had actually happened. Malfoy gave her more information than what she wanted to know. _It wasn't his fault, _she was always thinking. _It's mine._ _My fault. It's my fault he's dead. Isn't it? _Draco's tales had barely left her head, no matter how much time was spent planning the upcoming war. Regardless of her words and hints of encouragement, everyone was thinking the same thing: We're going to lose.

It was at the time someone made an uneasy face, Hermione would jump in and hand them words of down-hard logic to take their minds off things – it always worked on Ron or Harry before. Either that or she'd shove a prickly bouquet in their hands and state rather dully that Bonnie wanted it pruned in time for the wedding.

She tried to avoid helping Bonnie as much as humanely possible, so that plan was only used in utter emergencies. The _wedding_…

She accidentally walked into the room with Harry and Fred helping Ron adjust his dress robes, Hermione had to refrain herself from covering her eyes, her immediate thought: The bride and groom must not see each other before the wedding. She had always pictured her and Ron getting married. She had it planned down to every detail in her head since she was fifteen; nothing big, a small ceremony at the Burrow, she was sure Ron would like that, and a reception at the muggle park near her home where she first realized her feelings one summer during the Christmas holidays.

It pained her when she remembered he was not _her_ groom. He would never be, it was still something she was trying to accept.

She had heard them by the fire the other night, talking about the past and the future.

Something she could never have.

--

"Ron," Bonnie had whispered, it had been a while since they had the chance to sit and talk. "Remember when weh first met?"

By her tone, it was obviously an amusing story. "How could I not?" Ron answered; he was gazing at the crackling fire.

Bonnie remembered it too, six years ago – almost to the day…

-

"_Bon-Bon!" her father's rough voice had called from the bottom of the stairs at Webster Place. "Weh have company, lass! Get down here, would yeh?" _

"Pa_!" she groaned, clearly annoyed. "Could yeh _not_ call meh that? Ah'm twenty-one now, Ah'm not a child!"_

"_Bon-Bon," he replied firmly. "Ah can call yeh whatever Ah like! Now get down 'ere before Ah come up there and –"_

"_Ah'm coming, Pa! Think of yeh blood-pressure, will yeh?"_

_She moodily walked down the stairs only to distinguish two young men standing beside her father; they looked about her age and appeared amused by the shouting match. They we're both handsome – and British, she noticed – one had a muddled mop of raven hair; the other had ginger locks flopping lazily onto his face. Bonnie blushed and faltered in her step; she never really had a lot of experience being around men. She was hardly prepared for the shock and became self-conscious of her bushy-morning hair and quickly tossed on outfit. She fiddled with her curls and blouse, but that only resulted with her tripping down the last few steps, growing redder by the minute, she steadied herself and continued walking. _

_She glared at her father as he showed them to the sitting room while he and Bonnie fetched tea and refreshments. _"_And yeh didn't plan on tellin' meh weh were having company… _why_?" she muttered to him whilst she flicked her wand for the kettle to boil. "Their both wizards, right? Don't wanna freak 'em by using magic." _

_Mr. Cullen seemed amused. "__Oh, they're wizards. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will be staying here for a while." _

_The porcelain kettle slipped from her hands and dropped to the ground with an echoing crash. _"_Potter?" Bonnie hissed, ignoring the shards of glass. "_Harry Potter_? Are yeh mad? Yeh work for the Order, Pa, but do yeh really think he'll be safer from You-Know-Who _here_? Weh'll all be dead by the morning!"_

"_Now, now Bon-Bon. Yeh will be nice to our guests, wont yeh? For yeh old Pa?" _

_Bonnie scowled. "Yeh know Ah will. Why didn't yeh warn meh so Ah could get dressed properly? Ah look like a milkmaid." _

_A smirk curled her father's lips as he held dish before her. "And yeh would want to look good for boys, _why_?" _

_Bonnie snatched the tray from his hands with a dignified expression. "Shut it, Pa." _

_She took a deep breath before re-entering the sitting room and serving the tea and sandwiches. The two of them were talking to her father, thanking him for his offer and hospitality. Her father was modest, stating for them to stay as long as they needed. Bonnie knew he was doing it for her mother; it was what she would have done. _

"_Yeh boys haven't officially met mah wee Bon-Bon, have yeh?" it was clear her father was having _too_ much fun with this. _

"Bonnie_, actually," she corrected with a piercing stare in his direction as she gingerly shook each of the men's hands. "Bonnie Cullen." _

"_It's a pleasure." the man that was Harry Potter said._ _The English and their formalities…_ _She was aware they had arrived by the Floo network; both of them had soot covering their clothes that they weren't able to dust off. The Boy-Who-Lived's well-known friend, Ron Weasley, muttered a quick greeting. Bonnie squinted at him closely. _

"_You've got dirt on your nose." she stated matter-of-factly before handing him his cup and saucer._

_The boys swapped bewildered looks; Weasley flinched and looked away sharply. _"_What?" Bonnie said fretfully. "Did Ah offend yeh? Ah'm sorry. Ah should really stop talking now."_ _She sat quickly down beside her father, so quick, in fact, it made the couch slide, it knocked her fathers tea (mixed with Fire Whiskey, the way he liked it) right out of his hands. Bonnie wished she could disappear into the carpet as she helped retrieve the shattered pieces._ "R-Reparo_!" she stuttered, only succeeding in making herself more humiliated as the broken dish started to shoot across the room, everyone ducked for cover under the coffee table. _

_Bonnie apologized repeatedly over the smashes heard; all the delicates were broken from the stampeding missiles of china. _

"_So," her father stated awkwardly. "Shall weh show yeh to yeh rooms?" Harry blinked; Ron looked at him and shook his head vigorously. _

"_Of course." __It seemed that Ron suppressed a groan. _

-

"Wasn't that a fun day?" Bonnie said, snuggling into Ron's chest with a small smile permanently apart of her features. "Ah don't think Ah ever blushed so hard in mah life before Ah met yeh. It must have been some kind of sign, every time Ah got near yeh something broke."

"Certainly," Ron said quietly. "I recall hearing somewhere the international sign for love is constant breaking objects."

Bonnie laughed softly.

-

"_Bonnie?" _

_The twenty-six year old brunette turned to face the man she loved. The man she had yet to tell him he was the man she loved. Ironic. _"_Yes Ronald?" she answered hopefully, maybe today was the day that after five years she might finally admit her feelings. _

"_Are you done with that?" he asked, motioning to the maple syrup in her hands. _

"_Oh," she squeaked. "Sure."_ _Bonnie savoured the moment their hands touched as she passed it to him, watching him eat his pancakes, the pancakes she made, she added after a thought, the juice she bought at the shop down the street that had yet to be destroyed or founded by Voldemort's followers. _

_She had asked Harry one eventful day if Ron had any feelings for her at all. She was being rather hysterical and wondered if it was why Harry seemed so edgy to answer the question, his eyes shifted. _"_You remind him too much," he had said to her. "Too much of _her_." __Though_ _whenever she questioned as to who "her" was, Harry refused to respond and wouldn't talk for the remainder of the day. But from his statement, Bonnie could confirm two things. _

_One was that Ron had loved a woman before and was left heartbroken by her death or departure. _

_The other was that she somehow resembled her. Carried a trait or whatnot, maybe a feature. _

_She didn't see how she could be like anyone. Her hair was never perfect, just a brown mess atop her head. She wasn't exactly polite; she spoke her mind and had a bad habit of reciting books she had read while she was home-schooled by her mother. Some would call it a snobbish attitude, but she always tried to look on the logical side of things rather then tell people what they want to hear. It was just how she was._

_And where on earth would she find someone else like _that.

_He seemed gloomy most of the time, especially the first couple of years they met. But she had fallen in love with the times he would smile or make a snide comment, show his acts of bravery. Maybe those times she heard him cry were to do with "her"? Maybe she's the one that caused him to suffer._ _Maybe she's the reason he's so unhappy. _

_Bonnie mulled over it for a couple of days before she could no longer contain it. She was in her room at the time, her head buried deep into her pillow, when she snapped. She threw open her door and marched down the stairs – banging on his bedroom door with such force she thought her hand would bruise. _

"_Bonnie?" Harry inquired, his tone clearly drowsy. "It's five in the morning, what's wrong?" _

_She was an early riser too. _"_I want to know who "her" is and Ah want to know now!" she demanded, pushing past him into his room and sat on his bed with her arms crossed. "Start talking, mister. Who is she? What's her name? What did she do to Ronald?" _

_Harry closed the door and turned to face her. He swallowed. "Her name was Hermione Granger," he said in a rather painful tone, it was obviously hard for him. "And Ron loved her very much." _

-

Maybe that's why she's so jealous of Hermione; the thought had definitely been on Bonnie's mind for a while.

The day Harry had told her precisely who Hermione Granger was, Bonnie assumed her to be dead – murdered perhaps. He said that they were all best friends in school and that she and Ron loved each other more than anyone he knew, but he never told her how it ended, she could only guess it was bad.

So it was at her shock that a woman called Hermione showed up at their doorstep and turned out to be Hermione Malfoy, the wife of the man that had helped torture and kill both of Bonnie's parents. Hermione Malfoy had a history – a very _dark_ one – she just assumed that this _evil_ woman had the same name as the girl Ron had lost, even if it wasn't common.

She never figured the two would be the same. Not once.

Now she wondered if Ron would leave her, he had his precious Hermione back and yet he still hadn't called off the wedding. It made her doubt whether he was only going through with it because he had made her a promise and wanted to uphold it no matter his unhappiness.

Sometimes she could see the looks he gives her, and no matter how much he could possibly deny, it was _love_.

Ron still loved Hermione, and she knew it.

"Ron," Bonnie whispered, holding up two fabrics in the firelight. "White or cream?"

She knew they looked exactly the same; she just _loved_ to mess with him.

* * *

**Okay, everyone would like to know the ending pairing of this story (either Hr/D or Hr/R), but I can't tell! I'm sorry - you'll just have to wait till the end. ****This chapter has more to do with background information then anything else... hope you enjoyed it either way! ****Anymore questions, please ask! So, I'll have to assume about half of you still hate Bonnie? Haha!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly **


	12. His Fault

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Another chapter, another non-fundable dollar. Yay for invisible piggy-bank!

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:**

Sometimes the past can catch up to you. Things you would rather not remember. Things you overlooked. Things you regret.

Draco Malfoy had never really thought of these things until recently, around the time his wife started to act out of ordinary, nothing like her usual self. It made him wonder, had the past finally caught up to the present? The upcoming war had him exhausted; the House Elves had all seemed to be disappearing lately, so there wasn't a single presence besides himself in the Manor, aside from his ancestor's portraits. Protective charms around the Manor were stronger then ever, only if you were a Malfoy or had specific invitation could you enter its grounds – even the Dark Lord would have trouble penetrating them.

Through all the loss sleep and effort he was putting into the battle, to make things _right_ again, he still missed her.

She'd sustain him.

Every time had had raised his hand, or said something cruel, she would smile at him, as if to say: "I forgive you."

If only he could forgive himself. Now the only thing he could do for her is make a world where she could be happy. A world where they could be happy _together_. It was his fault after all, he's the one that made her this way, he's the reason she changed. He wanted to help build a place where they could be happy, undisturbed by anything that could hurt her. And to do that, he would do anything - kill anyone that got in his way to give her the perfect world only she deserved.

--

_He had come home early that day, he wanted to surprise her. She used to always pester him about spending too much time at the office, lately it seemed she had given up on this pursuit and left him alone. Like she stopped caring. He finished all his papers and hadn't any other work that needed finishing that day, so why not go home and spend some time with her? They hadn't really talked in a while, and to be quite honest – it bugged him. _

_He heard a noise coming from the east wing of the Manor; a small smile curved his lips as he walked in its direction, he was very careful to be quiet. He loved the look on her face when he surprised her; she'd get all flustered and smile. He adored her smile. His thrill was mellowed when he realized it wasn't Hermione. Just a House Elf. _

Her_ House Elf, in fact. What was its name again? Molly… Polly? _"_Hey, you!" he called; the Elf stopped in its tracks and looked at him with fearful eyes. "Where's Hermione?"_

"_M-Master!" the creature stuttered, a little louder than he thought necessary. "C-Can Millie get you anything, sir? A drink or refreshment? M-Maybe if you wait in the parlour, Millie can bring you –" _

_By its tone he could tell something was amiss, he held up his hand to indicate silence._

"_Where – is - Hermione?" he asked carefully. "That's an order." he added._

"_M-Mistress is…" the Elf stated breathlessly. "Mistress is…" _

_Then he noticed it, the stammering Elf was standing in front of a door. Watching it. Guarding it. _"_Is she… in_ there_?" he asked more to himself than anyone else. He swallowed hard as he came to a sudden realisation. "Is she in there with… _someone_?" The idea of Hermione with another man sickened him. Before the House Elf could say anything, its' eyes wide in alarm, he pushed past it and opened the door to the room. The library. He observed it, a form leaning casually against the shelves, waiting for him. _"_Weasley!" Draco spat, but it wasn't the Weasley he recognised, just the trait of ginger hair. This blood-traitor appeared older than himself, more butch than his wife's former boyfriend could ever be. _

"_Yeah…" said the eldest Weasley offspring, his wand in his hand. "I'm William encase you didn't know, Bill to friends, so you wont need to worry about that since this is obviously not a social visit. But I, of course, know you all too well, Draco Malfoy." He walked a few paces towards him then stopped, examining him carefully. _

"_What do you think you're doing here?" Draco inquired bitterly, also retrieving his wand from his work-robes pocket. "How did you get in?" _

_He paid him no heed but continued as if Draco never spoke. "You helped kill my father, you see. And I'm pretty sure you were responsible for the death of two of my younger brothers as well, and not to mention you stole Hermione from Ron. Do you have some kind of grudge against my family, Malfoy? Do we have something you want?" _

"_You and your unfortunate family have something I don't? Now that's a laugh," Draco stated, mimicking the unwanted visitor in pointing their wands towards each other. "Are you here to _gloat_?" _

_The Weasley shrugged. "Not really," he said carelessly, "to be perfectly honest I wasn't planning on running into you." _

"_Well, consider it a bonus then." Draco lashed forward and flicked his wand._ "Ledo inflictum_!" An invisible force threw Bill backwards into the bookshelf; it knocked over the scrolls and manuscripts that had been in his family for generations flew out onto the floor. Draco picked up the one closest to his feet. _"'_Dark Charms and Cures'?" he inquired with amusement. "You came all this way to look at a bunch of old _books_?" _

"_No," Bill grunted, stretching his back before reappointing his wand. "This is just _one_ room you've found me in, Malfoy. I've been looking all over this mansion, it's very…" he trailed off, "lonely." _

_Draco's eyes narrowed. "What _exactly_ is it you're looking for?" _

_The Weasley smiled, the impact had left him a small cut on his forehead, the blood dripped down slowly. "Something for a girl," he answered. "She deserves to be free, wouldn't you say so?" _

_He laughed, a cold, sheering sound. "Hermione? You can't be serious!" _

_His opposer dived for his wand that laid amongst the rubble of wood and parchment. "_Prosterno_!" Draco felt his knees give way, the pressure was unbearable as he smashed against the floor. He tasted blood. The opportunity had Bill regain his stepping as he walked towards Draco with his wand aimed cautiously. He could feel the spell wearing off; he rolled to the side away from his shot-range, he reclaimed his wand and sprung to his feet. His head spun from the previous impact. Once again, each man had his wand pointed threateningly. _

"_What has my wife got to do with any of this?" Draco snapped, no longer amused. _

_Bill dipped his head in a mocking bow, not breaking eye contact. "Everything." _

_Draco scowled. "What do you want with her? You got your little brat of a sister back didn't you?" _

"_Yes I did," he said with a pleasant smile, "with interest." he added, a small chuckled followed his private joke. _

_Another roaring light was sent across the room – Weasley jumped out of its path, it hit another bookcase, sending it ablaze with black flames and smoke. A small groan echoed through his head, more family heirlooms ruined… _"_So what did you do to her Malfoy?" Bill asked quietly. "A potion? Possession? Imperius Curse, maybe?" _

"_What are you suggesting?" Draco growled, wiping sweat from his brow. _

"_Did you slip a bit in her drink every night?" he muttered, his voice dangerously low. "Is that how you made her stay with you? Did you beat her? Blackmail her?" Weasley paused, "threaten her?" _

"_What do you know?" he said coldly. "I thought your lot hated her. Or did _you_ secretly love her?" _

"_Of course," Bill stated lightly. "She's like a sister to me." _

"_And she still is?" Draco demanded. "After all the pain she's caused you and your kind? She's tortured and killed as many of you as we could get our hands on!" _

"_That's the difference between us, Malfoy. We can _forgive _the ones we care about." _

_Draco gritted his teeth. "_Crucio_!" Weasley groaned, after a few moments the curse broke away, leaving him panting on the marble floorboards. _"_Hermione and myself __differ__ when it comes to torture," Draco said darkly. "She likes it to last, prefers it to be slow, gets to know her victim until they are no longer able to support their own head. Me, I like it done as quickly and _excruciating painful_ as possible." _

_He bent down and plucked his wand from his hand. Then waited. _

_Waited for him to recover his strength to sit up and face his outcome. Minutes passed until he could stand without wobbling. _"_Do you really think you can force her to love you, Malfoy?" the Weasley whispered, his hands held up in surrender. "Do you really think you can hold it against her once you kill all the people she really _does_ love? One day she's bound to snap, and when that day comes, you'll lose her forever." _

_He didn't like what he was hearing. "Shut up! Hermione loves me! She has for ten years now! What would you know?" _

_This man stood in his way of making her the perfect world – he's the kind that could cause her to remember what it was like before him, that she was _happy_ before him. To have this insignificant being look at him with pity was something he could never understand. Bill gave him a sad look. "She'll never truly love you." _

_He lost his temper. "_Advada Kedavra_!" One flashing green light and Bill Weasley dropped, dead; he was at peace. _"_I'll send you home," he muttered to the body on the ground. "For her." He left the library; the House Elf was still curled up in a ball outside the room, shaking. _"You_," he said piercingly to it. "Put that carcass near the last whereabouts of the Weasleys' house, then come back here for punishment. You let him in and helped him, didn't you?"_

_Millie whimpered but did as she was bidden. _

--

Draco had lost his temper and hurt her that day – now he knew she wouldn't come back. He'd lost her. The Weasley had been right. That day she snapped. At the back of his mind he knew it was bound to happen, but that only made him fight all the harder to keep her. After all, how long could a person like her last?

It was his fault she changed.

--

_Once Hermione was forced into marriage, weeks past were she wouldn't stop crying. Wouldn't sleep. Wouldn't eat. Wouldn't speak. Wouldn't look at him. Fellow Death Eaters suggested many things: love potions, curses, spells, mind control. Draco said that he would take them into thought – but he could never do it, not to her. Finally, one day, the Dark Lord knew of Hermione's brilliance and knowledge of Harry Potter, he ordered that he'd see her. _

_Draco could not object. _

_By now Hermione was too weak to object too. Blaise and himself had her weight supported between them on their way to the Dark Lord, the only thing she could comprehend was the muttering of _his_ names. "Ron…" she whimpered. "Ron…" her breath was deep, her eyes rolled under her eyelids. "Help… help me." _

"_We have bought her, my Lord," Blaise said with beaming triumph. "We've brought you the mudblood." _

"_Good," came a cold tone. "Bring her forward." _

_From the darkness emerged Lord Voldemort, gesturing to a seat in the middle of the room. Draco's eyes widened in dismay. Blaise pushed Hermione forward; she stumbled and landed on her knees in front of him. The Dark Lord circled her like a predator would its prey. He leaned close to her ear at let out a low hiss. "Torture," it sounded like, with a swirl of his clock his whispered. "Kill," with his wand he lifted her off her feet, she hovered limply for a moment then was placed into the chair. "Serve." _

_For days she was tortured into believing what they believe – a good world. A _pure_ world._

_A fresh start. Anguished in flesh until she believed she loved him, believed that hurting people was pleasurable, believed what they believed. The next morning he almost didn't recognise her, she was smiling again._ "_Draco," she said lovingly, awaiting him at the breakfast table. "Come sit down with me. What time are you coming home today?" _

_His brow creased. "Same time as always." he answered. "Why?" _

"_No reason," she grinned, pouring him a glass of juice and handing him his paper. "I was just hoping maybe we could spend some time together." _

_Draco blinked. "I suppose I can try to get out early." _

"_Great, then," Hermione said slyly. "Maybe we could get working on the heir, huh?" she winked at him. He dropped his goblet, staring at her as she snapped at the nearest House Elf to clean the mess immediately. Draco knew all too well that he wanted her to adore him, but this was not how he wanted to come by it. _

--

It was his fault. He wasn't strong enough to protect her.

It was his fault.

* * *

**If any of you are wondering what Bill meant as to "with interest" he means he got Ginny and Hermione as well!**** This was in Draco's point of veiw; he doesn't seem so evil now, does he? Am I forgiven? Well, I hope so. I don't really want fellow Malfoy-likers to be horribly mad at me, hence this very-forgivable chapter. Heehee...**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly **


	13. Wedding Woes

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank-you for reading!

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:**

Three days. Three days remained until Voldemort planned to attack the Order once and for all. No prisoners, captures or mercy – every man, woman and child sentenced to die under the Death Eaters wands. Just three days for the Order to be fully prepared for that _not _to happen. Hermione tried to help as much as she could, her new theory was she'd have more fun planning the war than the upcoming wedding. Not a lot she could say would come in handy, so Ginny would give her books on healing spells and she'd spend the day perfecting them.

That, or Hermione would try to catch Ron alone.

He was avoiding her, she knew it. Every time she saw him he would conveniently flee in the opposite direction or make sure someone else was in the room. He wouldn't look at her, wouldn't talk to her. So Hermione did everything in her power to delay the ceremony. She hid the shoes, conjured a few table-eating woodpeckers, but somehow, Bonnie managed to have a back-up to everything.

It's like the woman was a bloody saint or something.

"'Ermione?" Bonnie called while she was brooding by the fire, _accidentally_ knocking the wedding gown over towards it every few minutes as she pretended to stretch. "Can yeh please help meh with something? Ah would really appreciate it. Ah'm more than impossible with stuff like this…"

She hesitated. "Err… sure. What do you need?" Hermione asked with a smile.

_Someone to call off the wedding and steal the groom for you? I can do that._

"Ah was hoping yeh could try on a few hairstyles with meh. Ah hate to disturb yeh and Ah would have asked Ginny or Molly but their busy with the preparations… would yeh mind?"

Hermione gaped and gestured to the brunette chaos atop her head. "You want _my_ help? A_ racoon_ would have more experience."

Bonnie shifted her gaze. "What do yeh say?"

"Are you sane?" she muttered then sighed. "I'll help, however little it may be…"

"Thank yeh!" Bonnie cried, grasping her hand and pulling her up the flight of stairs to the room she shared with Ron. "Ah really don't have any clue as to what to do with it, but Ron told meh a few days ago that yeh had some experience with a ball yeh had in school or something, right?"

"Yeah… the Yule Ball," Hermione said slowly. "He said that?"

"Oh yes," Bonnie nodded, sitting in front of the mirror. "He said yeh looked very pretty and that most boys thought so."

She made a thoughtful hum that indicated she had heard and began performing spells on Bonnie's hair, trying to find one that suited her best. All the while, evil thoughts entered her mind of making the bride-to-be bald. Completely by a misshaping mistake, of course – she hadn't done these sorts of spells in a while, after all.

_No,_ Hermione said firmly to herself. _I'm not going to do it._

She looked down at a pair of scissors that laid harmlessly on the dresser.

_However tempting it may be… _

"So what are yeh planning on wearing to the wedding 'Ermione?" Bonnie asked. "Ah have some other robes if yeh don't know –"

"Are you sure a wedding _now_ is the best thing?" Hermione blurted out, regretting the words as soon as it left her mouth. Bonnie looked at her curiously through the mirror reflection. "I mean," Hermione continued. "There's a war going on, wouldn't it be better if you waited until it was over?"

Bonne was silent a few moments before answering. "And what if we die before then?" she said quietly, twisting at a curl. "What if someone dear to us dies, like Bill and he wont be there with us on that special day? Ah don't want that. Ah want to go to mah grave knowing that Ah'm Mrs. Ronald Weasley, wouldn't you?"

Hermione knew it was a rhetorical question. She pursed her lips grimly. _Yes, I would. _

--

Hermione had assisted Bonnie with her hair design then left, claiming suddenly that she was not feeling well. She curled back up to the fire with a book, remembering the times when she had done so without a boulder weighing her down – the only thing bad possibly on her mind being tomorrow's exams. Harry had noticed her wiry and distant expression as he sat beside her, waiting for her to speak. "Well?" he inquired harmlessly when moments of silence passed. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Hermione sighed. "Lots of things. Not important." she answered, finding an interesting spot on the carpet and glaring at it.

"I can see that." Harry stated in an unconvinced tone, she wasn't going to get rid of him easily.

"Harry," she began, tone indifferent. "What happened between you and Ginny?"

His face fell. "Not important. Besides, I asked you a question first."

"If I talk, do you promise to tell me?" Hermione requested shortly. Harry gave a hesitant, brisk nod. "And you promise you won't tell anyone?"

Another nod.

"Okay, well…" she didn't know where to begin. "I'll get straight to the point. I love Ron. I've always loved him and to needlessly stand by and watch him get married to another woman… it's _killing_ me. I can't talk to him about it; it will only result in pain anyway, I'm not stupid. But it really makes me wonder… me losing my memory, enduring all this hurt," Hermione felt a tear roll down her cheek. "Am I made to suffer? Was I put here to endure all of this alone? Why is this happening? What did I _do_?"

Her rant was spoken so quickly it had caused her to lose her breath, her face slightly flushed - Harry stared at her with such intensity she felt like a piece of complicated artwork, the kind were you have to tilt your head to the side to figure out what it resembled.

"Say something!" she demanded, slightly hysterical.

Harry raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth several times before settling on, "Interesting."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. When did my life become such an angsty soap opera? I have no idea, all I know is I wasn't looking at the time."

She pouted ruefully and sunk into the cushions that surrounded them. "Well Hermione, as your friend I say talk to Ron. As the narrator to this angsty soap opera thing, I say all its missing is some sort of plot twist – like a sudden appearance of a long lost twice-removed aunt or amnesia… wait, you have that already."

"Ha! You're so funny," Hermione said grimly. "I think I'm going to have a sarcasm-overload, you're honestly _that funny_."

"That's my advice," Harry stated, shrugging as he stood up to leave. "Do with it what you will."

"Hey!" she said hastily. "Your promise? What happened with you and Ginny?"

He sat back down with a groan. "Another tragic drama, as a matter of fact." he stated, entwining his fingers. "It was sixth year at Hogwarts all over again; I broke up with her to protect her, which made her angry and resentful. We waited for a while, but eventually we just… stopped believing in an end." he looked over at her, she was listening for more. "That's it." he added.

"That's _it_?" Hermione repeated with shock. "You two both still love each other but you are too afraid to get together because you might get killed? Even though we're in the middle of a sodding war?" He was about to speak, "No!" she exclaimed. "You are _not_ allowed to speak! You two have something extraordinary, something that doesn't come around everyday and when it finally does you grasp on tight to that one other special person and never let go, no matter the outcome!"

"It's a bit more complicated then that," Harry said tentatively. "I just can't walk up to her after eight years and expect something, she deserves better than that. She deserves someone that –"

"If you even attempt to say "make her happy" I will personally knock some sodding commonsense into you," Hermione whacked him on the back of his head, sending him toppling forward. "What's wrong with you, Potter? You make her happy! _You_!"

"What did you do that for?" he snapped, holding his head achingly and straightening his glasses.

She pursed her lips. "Don't be a sissy. Someone was bound to do it one day," she stated calmly. "Be thankful it was me, I don't hit _that _hard."

"If it makes you feel better, all those years at the library did help."

"Thank you, but flattery will get you nowhere in this current situation."

"Should have known I couldn't pull it past you," Harry said, leaning back against the lounge. "Why do you care so much anyway? Don't you have enough of your own problems?"

"I do," Hermione agreed, slanting her head onto his shoulder. "But I _know_ that I can't possibly get my happy ending. You and Ginny on the other hand… well, if I can't, then you two should."

"Hermione…" his tone was sympathetic, then he gave her a coy smile, "maybe Malfoy will take you back."

She scowled playfully and stood up from her seat. "Don't even joke about that."

"Where are you going?"

"_I'm_ not going anywhere," Hermione stated, folding her arms stubbornly. "_You_ are in my seat. _You're_ going to find Ginny. Maybe then there will be a wedding I can look forward too."

Harry's meek grin lingered on his features as he stood and gave her a squeezing embrace. "Thanks Hermione," he said. "You know, I really missed our little chats."

"Stop stalling and _go_."

"Alright I'm going. See you at dinner."

"Good-bye, and _don't take any detours_!"

--

Hermione was right. As always. He loved Ginny – he'd always loved her. But now really didn't seem like the _perfect_ time to go about proclaiming his mushy feelings when a war was about to take place in just three days. Possibly sooner, who really knew? Either way, war or no war, he had to tell her today. _Now_. "Ginny!" he cried out, barging into the kitchen that had recently been turned into the area where everyone gathered to discuss the battle plans. He noticed her listening to Remus, who was explaining the current Death Eater tactics.

"What's the matter Harry?" she asked rather awkwardly. He mentally slapped himself.

"I…" everyone was watching him. "I… err… can I speak with you…" more eyes observed, "in… _private_?"

Ginny seemed rather perplexed as she walked with him out of the crowed kitchen and into the living room, he noticed Hermione was nowhere in sight, she must have snuck upstairs to try and give them a bit of solitude together. That girl was still so deviously annoying. One step ahead. "So…" Ginny began uneasily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." he said a little too quickly.

"Nothing?" she recited slowly. "You… dragged me out of a meeting… to talk about… _nothing_?"

"Yes." Harry stated lamely.

"Okay then."

He shifted his feet until deciding swiftly to turned his back to her in one quick movement. "Sorry," he said clumsily. "But this will be so much easier if I didn't look at you." He couldn't only imagine the glare she was giving the back of his head. "Listen Ginny," he continued. "I know I don't deserve it, but I still love you. I love you more than anything, I have for years now and I could never bring myself to put you in any danger." He waited for her to object with her usual "I'm in danger everyday" line but it never came. "So…" Harry persisted timidly. "I just needed to tell you. I just needed to tell you once more that I love you. That's all I dragged you out of the meeting for really… sorry about that."

More silence.

"Ginny… please say something…"

"…"

"_Anything_?"

"About bloody time, you slow, egotistical prat!" He was washed over in relief as he turned around with a grin to face her once again, only to have Ginny's lips crashed onto his. They stayed wrapped in each others embrace, lost in their own blissful thoughts until a shriek was heard from upstairs; they broke apart and, together, bolted up the stairs towards Ron and Bonnie's room. They pressed their ears to the door and waited patiently for another clue to the screech, not wanting to barge into anything personal. People were talking, but quietly.

"Pregnant? _Pregnant_? What do you mean _pregnant_?" they heard Hermione cry out in dismay.

* * *

**Hmm... you hate me now, right? Yes - another cliffie. I truely am horrible. However, I thought I'd show a bit of Harry and Ginny's relationship and this is what I came up with, like it? Please send me any questions you want answered or if you have a clever plan you would like me to mull over! I am completely open to suggestions. **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	14. Pregnant Indeed

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Thanks for reviews! Your kind words inspire these chapters!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**

"_Pregnant_?" Ginny mouthed mutely to Harry who replied with a clueless shrug.

They opened the door to reveal the startling scene…

--

Hermione left the warmth of the fireplace, expecting Harry to want to have some well-deserved privacy with Ginny after she overheard him gracelessly collected her from the meeting. She carefully placed a bookmark on her page, since folding it was out of the question, and heading up the stairs towards her room. But she heard sobbing. Hermione cautiously opened the nearby door to see Bonnie sitting on the bed, her face buried within her hands, crying. She felt a little stupid, for a second she wondered if Bonnie even cried - or anyone else besides herself and Mrs. Weasley for that matter. Of course it was nonsense, everyone cried. "Bonnie?" she whispered, closing the door and approaching the weeping woman. "Are you alright?"

"N-_No_." she moaned, letting out a small groan and another hiccuping sob.

"What…" Hermione approached her warily and sat beside her. "What happened?"

The woman sniffled and ceased the tears from falling. "Ah… Ah… how could Ah let this -?"she wailed loudly in what seemed like a frustrated shriek. Bonnie broke down into another series of snivels and shred of tears; Hermione could only make out so much. "Just before the _wedding_… Ah… how can Ah tell him?... What am Ah going to _do_?... _What will he say_?"

"Bonnie, calm down," Hermione said firmly. "Now, explain to me nice and steadily what's going on."

She tried to keep a comfortable aura; it was always easier for people to talk when they don't feel pressured. A cool and composed atmosphere and expression of mind and bodily movement, she read it in a meditation book once, she couldn't recall where but she knew she would need it for dealing with Ron and Harry in their last year at Hogwarts. Bonnie looked up at her, her eyes red and puffy. "Ah… Ah'm pregnant."

Her composure was lost. "Pregnant? _Pregnant_? What do you mean _pregnant_?" she exclaimed in dismay, jumping up from the bed.

There was a pause where she and Bonnie ogled at each other in anxious shock, then the door opened, putting a stop to their thoughts.

"Pregnant?" Ginny inquired, glancing between the two women and Harry frantically. "Who's pregnant?"

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed, running behind them and closing the door.

"_Hermione_!" Harry cried in shock. "Malfoy _knocked you up_?"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, feeling greatly insulted, but Bonnie looked at her pleadingly; she could tell that she wasn't ready to let anyone else know the situation quite yet. She wanted Ron to know first, so she could understand her uncertainty in the matter. _Fine._ She growled to herself. _For Ron's bloody sake. _"Yes," Hermione said with strain and a twisted toothy smile. "Isn't it just _wonderful_?" Harry and Ginny both blinked, Bonnie looked relieved and thankful, but a little hesitant.

"This is a good thing?" she heard Ginny whisper to Harry who continued to stare.

"Well…" Hermione didn't know what to say. "No, I suppose it isn't."

After a long silence, Harry finally spoke.

"_I'LL KILL THE SODDING PRAT_!"

"Who are you going to kill, dear?" came the casual voice of Mrs. Weasley, she had opened the door and was looking at the group strangely. Harry's eyes were blazing in murderous wrath, though Hermione knew comfortingly that it wasn't aimed at her. "Dinners ready…" Mrs. Weasley tried for a reply again, but failed in a reaction. "What's the matter?" she concluded worriedly.

Harry gritted his teeth. "Hermione's _pregnant_!" he exclaimed, his hands thrown in the air with exaggeration.

Mrs. Weasley gasped. "What?"

"_WHAT_?" Ron was walking past when he heard Harry's statement, his mouth hanging open like a hinge.

Not knowing, Hermione and Bonnie both mentally hit themselves on the head.

_Bugger crap. _

--

Dinner was being picked and poked at in silence, the twins appeared greatly curious over the sudden dark cloud hovering menacingly over their heads. Harry seemed to be moping heatedly, Ginny looked strained, Ron was utterly depressed, their mothers gaze was completely confused and Hermione and Bonnie looked sick and extremely edgy. "Err… do I want to know what's wrong?" Fred finally spoke; he seemed slightly reluctant to ask such a dreaded question and rightfully so since as soon as the words left his mouth Harry's cutlery was banged with his fists onto the table.

"How did this happen?" he burst demandingly in Hermione's direction.

"Well," Ginny finished a gulp of her water before continuing. "When a boy and a girl –"

"I know _how_ it happened!"

Another hush came over them. "So…" George persisted. "Would any of you lot mind explaining the situation?"

"Don't make it long," Fred added quickly. "Get straight to the point. Make it simple and concise."

"Hermione's pregnant," Ron stated quietly from his seat beside Bonnie and Harry, "with Malfoy's child. Cant get anymore clear than that."

Fred and George looked startled, then smiled. "Great!" George said. "We could hold Malfoy's heir as _ransom_!" Hermione blinked.

"Yeah!" Fred agreed with a grin, it was one of the few times she saw them act as they did before, cheerful and jokingly. "'Let us win the war or the kid becomes a Weasley!'"

"'We'll dye its hair _red_ and everything!'"

"This is nothing to joke about boys." Mrs. Weasley stated calmly.

_Is this how they'd react if I was _really_ pregnant…? _Hermione seemed uneasy at the very idea. "Hermione?" Ginny asked her meekly. "You don't look too well. Do you feel sick?"

The next moment Mrs. Weasley's hand flew straight to her forehead for a temperature check. "Dear, oh dear," she muttered. "Hermione, are you experiencing cramping? Abdomen pain? You do seem a little pale… do you feel like throwing up?" Hermione felt her cheeks flush in humiliation as everyone looked at her with their own kind of emotion.

"Actually, I think I _am_ going to throw up."

She picked herself up from the table and fled the room as fast as she could manage. Ginny cleared her throat.

"So Harry," she began pleasantly. "How was your day?"

--

It was Ron and Bonnie's turn to clean up the kitchen, the others were all busy checking on Hermione - who had locked herself in the bathroom - or continued to prepare for the battle that could take place any day now. Bonnie was trying, unsuccessfully, to start a conversation. "Ron?" she tried again for the fifth time, but the man was completely off in his own world. He couldn't even hear her; all he did was stare into nothingness as the dishes washed themselves. "_Ron_?" Bonnie's mouth twisted into a scowl. "RON!" she snapped loudly.

He got such a shock he almost fell to the ground, blinking profoundly at her. "Bonnie!" he exclaimed, as if he just realised she was standing there. "Yes? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking nerves. "Ron…"

"You do know you've said that already?"

"Ron –" her tone was serious, but he spoke without waver.

"I can't believe Hermione's pregnant…" he stated remorsefully. "I mean, great for her. She really deserves a little bit of brightness, right?" it seemed he thought he could find the answer in the reflection of the saucepan. "I'm not being selfish by being worried for her, am I? Cause seriously, a kid is a lot to handle, especially in a time like this…"

"Err…" she cleared her throat irritably. "Ron!"

"But really, who else other than a Death Eater would bring a baby into a world like this?" Ron continued his rant, waving about the pot about in Bonnie's generally direction and towards the sky. "There's a war going on, for Merlin's sake! It's not like we can just pat her on the back and wish her the best of luck when its father is one of the highest on You-Know-Who's best buddies list, think of what he'll do to Malfoy's kid!" His face paled. "Oh no, what if it _isn't_ Malfoy's kid?"

Bonnie felt her heart drop. "Would yeh listen to meh?" she demanded.

"I just don't know what to think," he was lost in his words; an upset tone thickened the air. "I don't know what to say!"

"_Ron_!"

"Spit it out already, Bonnie. I don't have all night!"

"_Ah'm pregnant_!"

"I mean it's bad enough –" he lost his voice; he stared, seeming unable to speak, until he finally spluttered. "Not you too!"

Bonnie knew he would take it badly, but she had to put a stop to the "Hermione's pregnant" matter before she got them both in trouble. "But Ron –" she began, he interrupted her frantically.

"Why is this happening?" he demanded himself. "First Hermione, now you!" he addressed her with a hand gesture. "Is there something in the water? Seriously, what is it with you women? One of you get pregnant, next thing you know there's another! Should we lock away Ginny just in case? What about poor mum!"

"But," Bonnie tried for another chance to speak. "Hermione isn't –"

"Bloody hell," he cursed, running his fingers through his hair nervously. "Bloody hell."

Ron looked up at her with a questioning gaze.

"How long?" he muttered.

She hesitated. "About two months along."

"_Bloody hell_."

--

The stench of death followed him; it seemed that sorrow fed on his insides until he felt hollow and completely empty. Gathering after gathering seemed to have the place he once thought was home, but it had lost all meaning, the halls were alive with muttering strategies and echoing footsteps but it still felt the same – dead. Completely still. Dark, alone.

"Draco…" the hiss of the Dark Lord rang in his ears, he was immediately alert.

"Yes my Lord?" he gulped, his throat felt dry and parched, clucking his tongue for moisture.

"It has come to my attention…" he began slowly. "That Hermione, _our _Hermione, has been seen with the Order of the Phoenix."

Draco's eyes widened. Hermione was working with the Order? The very same Order they were but days away from slaughtering? It couldn't be true. Voldemort had appeared quite calm, now seemed in a deadly rage; his eyes were but red slits on his face as he glared with ferocity at him. "This is but a rumour, correct?" he whispered. "A jealous lie, a fictionist tale to try and take us off guard? _What is the meaning of this_?"

Draco cowered as the Dark Lord roared and gritted his pointed teeth; sheer terror ran through him as he raised his wand.

"I–I can not say!" he stuttered feebly. "I can not say for sure! My Lord, she is –"

"Going to die," he said harshly, turning his back to Draco and began striding down the corridor. "Tomorrow."

An icy cold breeze blew, though he didn't know what had happened, he ran after him. "T-Tomorrow?" Draco queried, his lips felt numb. "Tomorrow, my Lord?"

Voldemort stopped walking, leisurely turning to face the pale faced man once more. "Indeed," he stated casually. "We shall attack the Order of the Phoenix tomorrow," he paused with a smirk. "And they all will die." The last of his blood drained out of his face, Draco watched in awe as the Dark Lord left, only the swirling blackness of his cloak visible to him while his thought remanded clouded and thick. "Oh, and Draco," Voldemort called from the very end of the hall. "_You_ will kill her."

He fell to his knees as the man he called his Lord disappeared from his sight. Tomorrow they were to go to war, two days earlier than planned. And… he couldn't bring himself to think the dreaded fact. To even imagine completing such an order. Draco felt as if a bitter presence clench his heart and squeeze with all its might, going against every fibre of his being.

He was ordered to kill Hermione.

* * *

**Sorry this one took so long, though I think I deserve forgiveness-brownie-points for uploading at midnight! ****Please review your thoughts! Praise is good too! Haha, thanks!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	15. The Arrival

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Thanks reviewers!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:**

Locking herself in the bathroom for six hours wasn't _exactly_ something Hermione wanted to develop a habit of doing, but once Bonnie confessed that was she who was pregnant and not Hermione (Fred and George sighed, "I guess we _can't_ hold the kid for ransom…") she finally left her refuge to answer some extremely awkward questions that were being shouted through the door. As soon as she exited the small, damp room three people tackled her to the ground. She struggled, startled and taken completely off guard, until she realised they were hugging her.

_Hugging _her.

Harry and Ginny both had wide grins on their faces, seeming especially relieved; they were both saying things to her loudly, and at the same time, so it was hard to understand, but she heard nothing when she realised the other person who was clenching onto her with a thankful expression. Ron. _Ron_ was hugging her. She felt a smile beam on her face as all three of them staggered off her with bashful looks, except Ginny, and helped lift Hermione who remained spread-eagle on the ground, muttered apologies.

"We understand why you lied," Ginny stated happily, then shifted immediately to a frown as she hit Hermione over the head with a scrunched up version of the _Daily Prophet_. "What are you trying to do, _kill me_? I could have had a heart attack! You, pregnant with Malfoy's kid? _Geez_! Thanks for the ticket to loony-town!"

She winced as she dabbed the back of her skull. "Sorry."

"Now, now," George said cheerfully. "As much as I love this tender-filled moment, we have two days. _Two days_!"

"Probably less." Fred muttered bitterly.

"Don't be silly, they are probably having as much trouble as weh are." Bonnie said hastily; like Hermione, she also had the job to keep hopes above the water.

Hermione looked between the gathered Weasley's and few others that were not downstairs arranging as many protective charms as they could muster. "We have to be prepared for the worst," she stated. "They probably know I'm fighting with you now – they might come sooner, I wouldn't put anything past… You-Know-Who."

Remus Lupin was quietly standing by the stairs, paced over and placed a hand on her shoulder, during the time Hermione had been back, they had barely said a word to each other except polite greetings. He had aged horribly over the ten years she couldn't yet evoke and suffered from more scars than she could remember. "We can only hope for the best." he whispered to her, he gave a brief smile and turned to everyone else. "She's right, the element of surprise is what they have and they're not afraid to use it to their advantage! Back to work!"

Ginny watched as he started to walk back down the stairs. "What are you planning, Remus?" she asked suspiciously.

Lupin looked back up at her. "Could you help organise the stocks, Ginevra?"

He was refusing to answer the question.

Hermione expected Ginny to persist her query, but she gave a stiff nod and grasped Hermione's hand, they walked past him going down the stairs and towards the kitchen where numerous surviving Order members stood, whispering. Preparing themselves. Hermione wished it would not be in vain.

"Could you pass me that chart, Hermione?" Ginny mumbled, gesturing to the wooden clipboard that laid on the table. She did not answer, but picked it up and casually flicked through the papers attached, they were mostly about provisions and their quantity. Ginny thanked her and started checking things off the vast list. Time passed until eventually she had Hermione call out the record of supplies while she rummaged through the cupboards and other storage spaces. "Hermione," Ginny stated, her voice shook slightly and was muffled by surrounding boxes. "The weddings tomorrow."

Hermione swallowed. "I know." she tried to sound calm.

"Do you know how weddings work nowadays?"

"I… I can't say I do. They can't be any different, can they?"

"They don't have to last long, and can be performed by anyone with the right spell. No witnesses are needed."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ginny confirmed with a grim smile. "No one can afford anything fancy unless your in league with You-Know-Who, so I suppose all those times we talked about our dream weddings… the cake, the dress, the music… I suppose it won't happen. It's kind of sad, you know?" Again, Hermione chose not to reply.

--

He didn't feel like eating that day, so his actions remained weak and limp. No words or forced spooning could change his shadowed thoughts, not even by his future wife and mother of his child. His _child_. Nothing could have prepared him for that statement, a blurted out declaration that only consisted of two words.

She's pregnant.

Ron supposed that since Bonnie admitted she was having a child and not Hermione he had found it a little hard to cope. It confused him, and not for the obvious reasons that almost every other man would go through when they find out they were soon to be a father. Him – a _father_. Actually, the thing that was hard to cope with was the fact that he was happier when Hermione _wasn't_ pregnant with another mans child than he was with Bonnie _being_ pregnant with his. He could see some logic, he was glad his best friend wasn't expecting a kid for his enemy, so he would clearly be relieved for her.

Then again, that didn't explain the raging jealousy. Nor the guilt of him trying to replace Hermione with Bonnie. _There_ - he finally admitted it to himself. Of course, Ron loved Bonnie. Why else would he be marrying her tomorrow? But he just couldn't deny the fact that he loved Hermione more. Though the scary part was, he always had. No. No he couldn't. Bonnie… she was always good to him, kind and loving. She didn't leave him for his rival and shattered his heart in two, she did exactly the opposite - she helped _mend_ it. He knew deep down it could never truly heal, but she _helped_. She was there when he needed her.

So why was he thinking this? Why was he questioning his love for his fiancée?

Just because Hermione paraded back into his life doesn't mean –

"Oi, Ron!"

His eye twitched. "Why… what, _yes_?"

Ginny was leaning over him as he laid on the floor, a quizzical look on her face. "Are you alright?" she sounded uncertain of his sanity.

He gave her a brotherly smile. "I'm very well, and how are you? Get any boyfriends pregnant lately?"

Her gaze shifted. "Not that I know of." she admitted.

"Let's keep it that way."

"Whatever you say, Ron."

"Ginny?" Ron jumped up from the floor; he hadn't noticed Hermione entering in the room in which he had laid in a curled ball on the ground. "Professor Lupin wants you in the meeting as soon as you can. Something about a new defence system and spells…" Ginny glanced away from Ron and swiftly pulled her hair behind an ear.

"Tell him I'll be there in a second."

Hermione smiled, Ron tried not to look at her. "Alright."

He couldn't help but stare as she walked away.

"So, you're staying up all night too? It's almost sunrise. We're taking shifts, so if you wanted to go upstairs with Bonnie I could –"

"No!" he said it too quickly, she'll be apprehensive. "I mean, yeah. I'll stay up too. It's not like I need sleep or anything…"

Ginny gave him that gawk, he knew she was suspicious. "Okay, a bit on edge are we?"

"Well, I'm going to be a _dad_. So I'm a little on edge, yes."

"Professor Lupin says to hurry." Ron jumped again as Hermione re-entered with a couple glasses of hot chocolate.

"You know," Ginny began pointedly, amused by her thought. "You don't have to call him Professor Lupin. Surely he hasn't failed to mention that he hasn't been teaching in over fourteen years."

Hermione sighed. "Habit." she stated irritably.

A shriek. It was distant, but he still heard it. His brow creased. "Did you hear that?" he asked the two sniggering women. The atmosphere turned serious. Ginny stood and made her way to the shaded windowsill Ron was leaning against, Hermione hesitantly followed behind. The youngest Weasley drew back the curtains and squinted out into the faint dawn light; she took in a sharp breath and covered her gaping mouth with her hands. Hermione peered over her shoulder, pure fear shone through her eyes.

"No…" she muttered. "_No_…"

The Death Eaters had arrived.

* * *

**Huh. This ones shorter than normal. Oh well, this ones short the next ones longer. Just a friendly reminder, you may need to re-read past chapters for further ones to make proper sense. **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	16. Beginnings

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Thanks reviewers! Leave an email, I love to reply to your lovely compliments!**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen:**

Hermione's breath had quickened so rapidly, she had trouble keeping her thoughts in check. Nothing she could think of made any sense; all her words were muddled and barely came out of her mouth other than mindless gibbering. So she did the only thing she could think of at the time. She screamed.

Her shriek came of use before Ron firmly clamped his hand around her mouth to muffle the ear-wrenching sound. Members of the Order came running into the room to be given a brief and straight-to-the-point explanation by Ginny. "Death Eaters," she hissed, she had recovered surprisingly well from the shocking jolt and held a high air of command. "Group three, alert all our allies to come immediately – it's _not _a drill. Group five and one, prepare the additional defence wards. The rest of you," Ginny paused hesitantly, "good luck."

No one dared question her as they all started to scurry to their ordered destination until only the Weasley's, herself and Harry remained in the room, not wishing to leave each others side. Bonnie had rushed into Ron's arms, wide awake and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Well," Harry spoke slowly. "I –"

"Don't," Ginny whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "No matter what you all say, it will sound like goodbye."

And with that, she left the room, her wand clenched tight in her fist. "Alright," Harry said regretfully. "Molly, join the east flank. Fred, George," both the twins listened intently as Mrs. Weasley doubtfully bustled away. "You're both posted on the roof, aim as far out as you can; only join us under complete emergency. Ron, your with me in the north flank, Bonnie…" Harry paused. "Go to the tunnels and stay there."

Bonnie gaped, clearly insulted. "What?" she demanded.

"You're pregnant," Harry stated shortly. "You can't fight."

"Ah'm not running away! How could yeh ask that of meh? Abandon yeh? Is that what yeh all want?"

Ron gripped her shoulders, she fell silent. "Bonnie, I wouldn't have you anywhere else than at my side." Hermione flinched at his tender and loving tone. "But Harry's right," Ron continued grimly. "You're pregnant; you have a child to care for. I won't let you. Please, go." A loud explosion arose from a distance, shaking the Burrows' walls as easily as if it were nothing but a mere paper blown by a storm. Hermione cupped her ears trying to dull the throbbing crash, shatters followed and the floor shook beneath their feet, dust fell from the impact. Ron looked at Bonnie pleadingly. "Go." Bonnie let out a small whimper and crashed her lips onto his, wrapping herself in his gentle embrace. Tears formed in her eyes as he released her after ten long moments had past and gave her a nudge towards the door. Hermione felt drained and cold as she watched them.

"Get out of here Bonnie." his voice was firm.

With a sobbing heave Bonnie tore him away from her sight and fled the room.

"You did the right thing." Harry said to him consolingly once she was out of sight, Ron only gave a stiff nod.

"What about me?" Hermione asked quietly. "Are we to fight… together?"

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, a weak tug on his lips. "Join us if you wish, my friend."

And that, she did.

--

Following Harry and Ron out onto the rampant battlefield was somewhat a blur of flashes, echoes and cries of torment. Most of the Order and their allies were preoccupied in vivid duels; others remained in the far corners – casting spells at approaching Death Eaters. Those remaining ran about, dodging curses and healing those injured. Hermione tried to swallow whatever she could muster, her tongue felt dry and fuzzy. Her wand was held in a trembling hand, her breath remained constant as she looked fretful and her eyes darted at every sign of movement.

It was sickening. That _smell_. She remembered it well, but from where she could not recall. She felt light-headed. _No Hermione_, she told herself. _Now is not the time to faint._ But she had that sudden, alien emotion – that strange, familiar feeling of dozing. She seized the back of Ron's robe to stop herself falling.

--

_She felt vibrant and alive. _

_Triumph, pride and pleasure seeping through her veins as she watched those fall around her, the pleas of mercy sent a smile to her lips – she couldn't help it, the pain of those she had once loved was just too good to bare, those stupid enough to not seek true power. The power she held in her very hand. _

"Advada Kedavra_!" she cried in delight, another body crumpled to the floor, never to rise again. She saw them, fighting their hardest against their endless wave of force. Spell after spell they cast, but for every man they killed another stepped forward to take his place. Sweat mixed with blood poured from their brows, but she knew it was doomed to failure, she knew they couldn't win, she knew it would happen. _

_Her Lord was just about to kill Harry Potter. _

_She watched in mild interest as the people around him tried to _save _him. They had always been like that; she vaguely remembered of her acquaintance with them a bit over three years ago, the fools were ready to sacrifice themselves for each other. A part of her ached, a longing, something missing. She ignored it, Draco called it normal, he said everybody gets that feeling eventually; she had no choice but to believe him. The sensation would rise every now and then; it was trying to tell her something. _

_But she was not weak; she would not let it overwhelm her. So she focused her attention on something else. _

_Something familiar. _

_That _smell_. The smell of burning wood of structures crumbling to their doom, the smell of rotting flesh, the aroma of her bathing in the blood of her enemies that rained upon her; thousands of tiny droplets that stained her robes with keepsake smudges, trickling warmly down her skin and making her nose tingle, her lips pulled tight into a smile. How she _loved_ that smell. _

--

"Hermione?" Ron queried anxiously, he raised his voice to be heard over the screams and the blasts of spells hammering the ground at the horror that was in full-swing around them, she released his robes and let the fabric slide gradually through her fingers. He noticed her wobble and held onto her forearms to steady her.

"I'm sorry," she stated, gasping for air. "I… I'm a little nervous." He looked unconvinced then pulled her to the ground to dodge a fired curse. It hit the floor beside them and left a deep crevice, the dust rose and billowing smoke circled over it. Hermione coughed and spluttered. "T-Thanks." she said breathlessly, Ron gave her a quick smile and helped her to her feet.

He hesitated. "Will you be alright?"

She wanted to say no, just so he would stay by her side. "Yes, I'll be fine."

Ron smiled bleakly and gave her an awkward salute with his wand. "Good luck, Hermione Granger."

He ran ahead and joined in a duel with Remus and Harry. Hermione quickly lost sight of them by the rushing of crowds, her heart raced as something whizzed past her ear and split the tree behind her in two, sending splinters flying in all directions. She squeaked and ducked for cover behind a fence. Hermione had tears in her eyes, the morning sun shone shafts of light onto the ground, it was still relatively dark. She took a deep breath and stood from her crouching position, two Death Eaters were prowling about the side of the Burrow. She glowered and aimed her wand in their direction, her lips felt numb.

"_P-Petrificus Totalus_!" The shorter of the two fell to the ground like a rotten lump; the other glanced around, fixing its black eyes on her, its white mask gleaming with grime from fighting. He approached, since its form was indeed male, Hermione's eyes widened. "_P-P-Petrificus_ –" Her wand flew out of her hand; she shook with fear at his approaching figure but scrambled to the ground, her hands running blindly over the muddy surface for the smooth texture of her missing wand. The Death Eater continued his slow, terrifying pace towards her…

"_Advada Kedavra_!"

The curse appeared from behind Hermione, the Death Eater fell under the green flash of light. She fretted turning around and seeing either a friend or an enemy, but she had no time to linger, she spun her heels and pointed her wand threateningly. There stood a woman with a limping leg and cuts at her clothing appeared to be burnt away from numerous spells, a hard expression on her face, she gazed at Hermione stiffly. "G-Ginny?"

"Hermione," Ginny acknowledged with a nod, swaying on the spot from her injured leg. "You can't be so merciful. Petrificus Totalus just won't work anymore; they won't show you the same mercy given the chance." Her face was pale, her upper lip slashed. Hermione was speechless; with anger, sadness or regret, she did not know.

Ginny had performed an Unforgivable, and not just any of them – the _killing_ curse. No person, good or bad, deserved that fate. And yet, as she listened to the cries of battle, numerous Order members were recounting spells of torture and death, and many others she thought lost to the generation. Many spells forbidden or considered too inhumane to be uttered in over five hundred years. "You'll get killed just standing there gaping like a fish out of water," Ginny snapped, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her along the outskirts of the battle. "I know what your thinking, but you're just going to have to suck up your pride and do it sooner or later."

Hermione pulled away from her grasp, she had no other word for what it was. Murder.

"Its slaughter," she hissed bitterly, creasing her brow. "I won't perform an Unforgivable."

Ginny gritted her teeth. "This is not the world you remember, Hermione! Right now, its kill or be killed! Those are your only options, you may not like them, but that's what they are. We have no choice but to kill! We many not enjoy it like your previous lot," she crinkled her nose in anger. "But we do what we must to survive. You should know that." Hermione was stunned into silence, she didn't know whether to agree or disagree. Ginny sighed, her shoulders remained tense. "Come on, we have to keep moving."

She followed the redhead back into the centre of the fighting, surprised by the lack of Death Eaters that were struggling to remain ahead in lines. She was wary, there was bound to be reinforcements and probably Voldemort himself on their way, apparently Ginny was also chary – though ground before she did not voice her concerns but hexed an approaching opponent that flew ten feet above before landing and snapping his neck.

Hermione cringed; her disgust was soon forgotten as a Death Eater lunged at her from the shadows.

She yelped at the blow to her stomach, but managed to squeak. "_Duro_!"

Her attacker turned to stone, Hermione vaguely recognised her as a woman that attended Voldemort's meeting. The Death Eaters face was frozen in a snarl, baring her teeth in concentration and what was possibly anger, her figure colourless and smooth to the touch. Ginny pulled Hermione away just in time as a Blasting Curse hit and the figure shattered from impact. Hermione felt guilt, but had no time to dwell on it. Ginny had been joined in a duel with another Order member; she took the opportunity to prove that she could still be her independent and strong self. Hermione united with Harry as they fought off four advancing men in dark cloaks, Ron was struggling to remain dominant in a battle against – Goyle? – not too far away from them.

She was restrained, unable to move as she and Harry were backed up against the wall.

"Any ideas?" she whispered to him, not taking her eyes off their pursuers.

"One." Harry replied bleakly, gripping his wand tighter in his hands and licking his cracked lips. He didn't elaborate to her of his plan, but cried out in a hoarse, dry voice. "_Sectumsempra_!" Slashes and slits across the chest and throat is what brought the four to a blood-spattering end, Hermione looked on in horror as some of the crimson tears sprayed onto her robes, Harry leaned on the wall, welcoming the support.

A blood-curling shriek echoed the morning, the next thing Hermione noticed was Ginny leaning over the dead body of Mrs. Weasley, gingerly closing the old woman's eyes before scornfully running after an escaping Death Eater. Finn had killed Mrs. Weasley. She wanted to weep, cry out in dismay. Her vision was overrun by the blur of oncoming tears, but she could not let herself mourn the death of someone she thought of as a second mother. She hated the fact but was unable to deny that every moment she was off her guard could lead to a moment where she could be the one lying dead in the dirt.

The next emotion to overcome her was revenge, the urge to hurt. Hermione shook off the feeling and turned her attention to Harry and Ron, they followed Ginny in chasing after Finn. It was then she became completely aware of the number of Order members falling, dropping to the ground under the Death Eaters feet, followed by loud cackles.

A figure pulled at her, Hermione snapped out her arm, striking the stumbling form.

"Ow! 'Ermione!" the person cried out in annoyance. Hermione gaped.

"Bonnie?" she spluttered in shock. "What are you doing here?" she demanded while gawking at the brunette covered in scratches from what was obviously combat. "The others told you to leave until it was over, your going to get yourself killed! What will Ron think? If he knows I've seen you, he'll be furious."

"Ah couldn't just leave!" she pleaded for understanding. "Ah can't leave Ron."

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably and was silent. "We can tend to the injured." she concluded, walking out to the nearest ally that laid on the blood-soaked ground, groaning in his unconscious state. She gulped nervously, the first time her healing skills were being put to the test. "_Rennervate_."

The man rose into an upright position, his eyes snapped open as he breathed in mouthfuls of air to fill his chest. Bonnie had conjured a splint for his arm – Hermione settled that it did indeed look broken as she wrapped it around him. "_Episkey_." Bonnie whispered, flourishing her wand at the mans small cuts and bruises. He thanked them in a hoarse voice, while she smiled and walked away to attend to the next awaiting patient. They passed many bodies of people they had eaten meals with, including poor Neville, and they could do nothing but close their cold, glossy eyes and place their limbs in a more comfortable position. A stray Death Eater or one of Voldemort's followers would come across them in the hour they wondered together, Hermione would either tie them up or use the Confundus Charm to send them into random outbursts.

"'Ermione…" Bonnie began. "Could yeh…"

"_Bonnie_!" the tone was angry, relieved and bewildered. Ron staggered towards them, led by Harry and Ginny. "What do you think your doing?" Ron demanded, the tips of his ears were a bright pink and half of his face was covered in mud from what appeared to be a very nasty fall. "Why are you still here? Have you completely gone nutters? We ordered you to stay away! You can't just walk out on that whenever you please, what about our child?"

Bonnie drew her chin up with decorum, her hand against her breast. "Ah won't run and leave yeh all to doom."

There was an uncomfortable silence. "Who said we were doomed?" Harry mumbled, forlornly looking about at the battle that had now partly taken to the air, the Death Eaters black cloaks bulging behind them on broomsticks while various Order members performed difficult manoeuvres to keep from being run into the ground.

"Ah want to be married," Bonnie said firmly, taking everyone completely by surprise. "Right _now_."

A Death Eater collided into a dead tree, dropping to the floor and skidding, creating a storm of dust. "You think _now's_ the right time to be thinking about this?" Ron stated in amplification.

Ginny was watching Hermione carefully; Bonnie didn't have time to answer as Fred, George and Remus were fighting a lone Death Eater in the distance. The twins had left their post on the roof, of course having clarified it an emergency. "Did you kill Finn?" Hermione asked bitterly. "Did you avenge Mrs. Weasley's death?"

There was a pause. "Yes," Ron said quietly. "I killed him."

She nodded grimly. "Good."

They were corrupt by the question and Bonnie's sudden demand, watching the small forms of the twins and Lupin. George and Remus were abruptly bounded with rope by the dark figure, Hermione's eyes widened, before she knew it they had begun to run towards them with great speed. Fred screamed in anguish as he squirmed on the ground under the Death Eaters wand, George and Remus fought the ropes with all their strength and energy, Hermione and the others were still too far away to use magic to be of any assistance. A horrible snap, Fred stopped moving.

The Death Eater cackled menacingly and scrambled back towards the battle, George and Remus broke free of their bounds and raced after him with enraged snarls on their faces. It took Hermione a while to notice she had ceased running, and accompanied Ginny in kneeling beside her dead brother. "Fred…" she whispered, as if to awake him from slumber. "_Fred_…"

Tears ran down her cheek as Ginny rested her head on Fred's chest and sobbed, Harry put an arm around her shoulder in attempt to comfort her, Bonnie was weeping in Ron's arms. Both men held the same blank expression, Hermione scowled at the lack of compassion that they use to possess. Ginny sniffled and rubbed her eyes while Harry lifted her to her feet, without a word she tracked in the same direction as George and Remus, Hermione trailed after her, the others pursued them. By now she felt numb, drained of all her hope and tears. A pulsing liquid fire passing through her veins and into her head like poison, clouding her vision.

"YOU MURDERED MY BROTHER!" George leaped onto the Death Eater and pulled away his mask.

There stood Blaise Zabini.

He smirked at the stunned faces before giving a cold stare at Hermione. "So, it _is_ true," he said in a smooth voice, he was pinned to the ground by George with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Bonnie, Remus and herself positioned their wands at him threateningly. "You _have_ joined them, I warned Draco this was bound to happen. It always does when you marry someone unworthy."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You forget that we are the ones with ourwands pointing at your throat, Zabini."

She gave a little wave with the wood in her grasp, mockingly. Blaise continued his leer. "You forget to look behind you, _Granger_."

Even before she had a chance to ponder his statement, a crackled voice sounded form behind them.

"_Advada Kedavra_!" Hermione screamed as Remus dropped to the ground, a stunned expression remained on his face. He was no more. As she gaped in horror, Blaise snatched George's wand and held it at the once-twins' chest. "Drop – your – wands!" he hissed, squeezing the handle so tight his knuckled turned white. Hermione winced and prepared to drop her aimed weapon, Harry put his free hand on her shoulder to halt her action, shaking his head solemnly.

"We can't do that." he answered quietly, Hermione looked on in dismay.

"What?" Blaise demanded, moving his aim to George's exposed throat. "You – _Saint Potter_ – are sacrificing a life?"

"All members of our Cause are asked the same question," Harry replied regrettably. "In hostile situations, George Weasley, among many others, solely agreed to sacrifice his life if it means it could save others. No matter how much I may want to, we honour his decision."

"Harry!" Hermione cried out in shock. "Please, you can't let this happen!"

He shot her a silencing look. "Listen to the girl, Potter," Blaise sneered. "She may drivel wisdom."

At the distraction, George struggled. "Don't do it Harry! Leave me!"

An ugly scowl twisted the Death Eaters face; he leaned in close towards him. "Quiet!" he bellowed.

"Ever heard of a breath mint?" George asked disdainfully, a bead of sweat ran down Hermione's face.

"Going once…" Blaise gave a twitching smile of amusement.

"Harry!" Hermione wailed, the second Death Eater restrained her from her wand. "Please! _No_!"

"Going twice…"

"Ron!" she exclaimed. "Ginny, do something!" she glanced with desperation at the redheads. "He's your brother!"

Their expressions remained stony, Ginny's eyes glazed over. "It's what you want?" she whispered, George gave her a nod.

Blaise smirked. "Gone." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as the words echoed throughout her head. "_Advada Kedavra_." A thud, she squinted painfully. George laid dead, crumpled on the floor, Blaise poked at George's corpse with his foot, a smug expression on his face. "I think he wanted me to do that. Pathetic."

Hermione's breath came in fuming pants; she struggled against the Death Eater that held her. "You arrogant son of a –"

Blaise clucked his tongue scornfully. "Language, Granger."

"_Advada Kedavra_!" the words came out of Hermione's mouth before she could stop them, Blaise was sent stumbling backwards and hit the ground with intense force, but otherwise he stood, unscathed except for a limp shoulder. A laugh escaped his lips.

"You don't _mean it_, Granger."

She spat at his feet. "I hope you suffer a fate worse then death." her voice dripping scornfully.

"You have to mean it, Hermione," Blaise said, approaching her by stepping over Georges corpse and twirling a strand of her hair. "You have to _want_ to kill."

Ginny stepped forward. "Like me," she said shortly, pointing her wand at his nose. "_Advada Kedavra_!" Blaise was killed instantly by the curse, but the collision with the tree meters away cracked open his skull. Hermione felt a churning in her stomach, flashes of dizzying lights, she turned away and retched, Remus' killer had long since vanished, Ron rubbed her back soothingly, she pulled away from his grasp.

"How could you?" she growled, giving each of them a fierce stare. "How could any of you allow that? You had your wands, you just watched him die! Why didn't you try to help? Why didn't you save them? You could have saved them! _Why_?" Her demands become less hostile with every word until she broke down with heavy sobs.

"Hermione," Ginny said stiffly. "This is the result of war."

"Yes," Harry agreed, gazing at the sparks of oncoming spells. "And this battle's just beginning."

* * *

**This is about half of the battle scene. I had to cut it down and put the end in another chapter because it was so long and so much information must be taken in at once. My suggestion would be to make a list of all the characters and cross the ones that, regretably, die out. That way it may help you keep track of things! Of course, I won't show the death of everyone, Hermione may only witness a select few. And perhaps Bonnie, before being interupted, was about to ask Hermione to marry her and Ron!**

**I would like to put in special thanks to my dear friend _SwEeTnEsS-4u_ for being such a great help with editing and coming up with awesome hints when I was in writers block. I would also suggest her story "The Secret World of You and Me" - its a HP fic! Oh, you can find her in my favourite authors list! **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	17. Revenge

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

I really do love all my wonderful reviewers and their kind words.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen:**

The nauseating feeling didn't cease, but increased with every quivering step she took until she was forced to lean in-between Harry and Ron for support, both men not able to do the task alone from their lack of strength and energy they had put into battle. "What do we do now?" Hermione inquired, her voice shaking. _I don't think I can take any more of this… _

But she wasn't one to complain about her minor aches and pains, nor could she see anything but misery brought with her scolding them more about the deaths they could have stopped. The group was surprised by the absence of Death Eaters that had seemed to disappear with the death of each Order ally, although Hermione still couldn't shake the sensation that they were being watched. "We do what we always did in school," Ron answered bleakly. "Look for a fight, because Merlin forbid _we_ miss the action."

"True." Ginny stated in a grim tone, peering behind a cracked wall and signalling for them to continue.

"This is strange," Bonnie commented, following in front of Ron. "Where is everyone?"

Harry grimaced, his wand held above his head. "I don't know." He was silent a moment, before speaking again. "I think we should split up."

"What?" Ginny hissed. "Are you mad? There's no way any of us are going into this alone!"

"I don't like the idea either," he snapped back. "But it's the only option we have. If we stay together we'll all get killed. I don't know about the rest of you," Harry and Ron swapped glances, "but I can't watch anyone else that I love die today, I can't watch you guys get slaughtered by these people."

"Or captured and tortured." Ron added as a long silence followed his words.

"So," Bonnie stated quietly. "What yeh both mean is, yeh want us girls to run away?"

Ginny's glower deepened. "I'd rather die here, fighting for what's right, then turn my back and flee like a coward."

Hermione nodded with agreement. "We're not going anywhere."

"I hoped you'd listen to reason, but who am I kidding?" Harry answered. "But so be it."

An ambush. It had to be it – the tense atmosphere that lingered above their heads like a knife going in for the final blow, there was no other alternative. Their eyes and ears were alert for the slightest sound or movement; Hermione had come to a decision she knew the others had figured out long before her. Everyone was dead. They were the only ones left standing. The only ones left standing on _their_ side, at least. She could feel the breath on her neck that made her skin prickle uneasily. Her fingers twitched around her wand, ready to mutter a curse, any moment now. It was drawing near. This was the end.

A wave of petrifying fear washed over her as she drew her conclusion:

She was going to die. Right here, this day on the battlefield, surround by the bodies of her friends. Harry had grasped Ginny's hand protectively and was pulling her along behind him. Bonnie was still clenching to Ron's arm, her eyes wide with dread. Ron's face was carved grimly, dried blood cracking in the side of his head. But Hermione was alone. Dawdling at the back of the group, secretly hoping she'd be the next to leave this world. The uncomfortable stillness was broken by an agonizing groan. Bonnie gasped and released Ron's arm. "_Joseph_!" she exclaimed, running a head towards a man beside a tree. He was sputtering blood. "Joseph!"

"Bonnie, no!" Harry cried in a strained voice. "Get back here!" She wasn't listening, at least one hundred meters ahead of them now; she kneeled before the dying man. He had a spike through his gut that pinned him to the ground, an arm looked dislocated and his breaths came in short, wheezy pants.

"B-Bonnie," he croaked, as she leaned close over him. "Water… please! My throat is as dry as sand!"

He coughed, splattering yet more blood. She shook her head sadly. "Ah'm sorry, Ah'm sorry Joseph! There's not a drop about. Please, let meh help yeh!"

Bonnie held her wand shakily over the man; his pupils darkened as he gripped her shoulders and shook her forcefully for his frail state, bellowing: "No! No, make it stop. Please, water! I need water! Give it to me, girl! Please,_ stop_! Don't hurt us anymore! _Stop_! _Don't come any closer_! Leave me alone! No! Water! Please, leave me in peace!"

"Joseph, what's wrong?" Bonnie stated, heaving away from his grip as the old man fought the seizure. "_Joseph_!"

"Cullen," said a unpleasantly cold voice from behind her. "What are you doing out here so… alone?"

Hermione and the others had spotted the cloaked figure and began to run through the corpses and mud to reach her. Firing curses in its direction, the Death Eater put up a defensive barrier and overpowered the lone witch in the struggle for her wand, snapping it in two. "_Bonnie_!" Ron cried, banging on the invisible forced that hurtled him back five meters.

Harry and Ginny had gotten to work on bringing down the defensive charm. "Hermione," Ginny hissed. "Help us!"

She drew out of her daze and began flicking through everything she knew about protective obstacles. Nothing worked. Bonnie was white with fear while the Death Eater stepped on Josephs neck, blocking his throat until he was still – dead. It was over quickly. A burst of green light and Bonnie dropped limply to the floor. Sound seemed to have left the scene for a moment as Ron screamed and hit at the barrier, shouting her name, though no sound emerged from his lips. Harry and Ginny had features locked in angry snarls as the field broke under their charms.

Sound came rushing back as Hermione noticed the tears burning her eyes.

_Bonnie. No, not like this. She can't be taken like this. _

Everything came in a blur; fifteen Death Eaters rushed out of hiding and circled the small group, her anger boiled up to her throat as she stunned three in one hit – sending two others tumbling backwards from the force of the blast. "BONNIE! No, _Bonnie_!" Hermione briefly saw Ron kneeling by the body's side. That's all she was now. Just another body.

Then she saw him, the black cloak and white mask did not fool her to his true identity. He was fighting against Ginny and Harry, among with five others of his kind. The cruel, sinful kind. Harbouring her energy she picked up a rather thick stick and chucked it at an approaching opponent, throwing them off guard and giving Hermione the chance to stun them successfully. Their eyes met over his fierce duel with Harry, he looked at her. Draco Malfoy looked at her. She gritted her teeth. "_Incendio_!"

A tongue of flames flew out of the tip of her wand, warding off those who drew near.

"Bonnie…" Ron wept. He loved her. "_Bonnie_…"

He really loved her. Hermione never thought tears could flow so freely. The weight in her chest seemed to slow her down as she ran, throwing spells over her shoulder until her breath came in hoarse pants. Then it stopped. She didn't know why at first, but her heart stopped beating, her breath caught in her throat.

Harry and Ginny didn't see, but she did. She did.

Her hair whipped from around her face, she twisted her gaze just in time – Draco had walked up to Ron and Bonnie's body, held his wand at aim and –

She felt like heaving, her mouth hooked into a sneer. "No," she hissed. "_No_!" Hermione broke into a run; her cry hadn't drawn the attention of anyone, who were still wrapped up in battle. Scampering to the scene, she called, screamed, wept, but it wasn't enough. They couldn't hear her. No one heard her. "RON! NO! LOOK OUT!"

Something tore inside her, shredding to pieces something that seemed nothing but important. Draco held his wand firm; Ron gazed up in tears only to have his eyes widened in horror. Words were spoken, exchanged between the men. She was too far. Why was she always too far? No, she can't give up.

"_RON_!" The Weasley clenched the body of the dead in his arms. "NO, PLEASE! DRACO!" Hermione slipped, her wand flew from her grasp and she fumbled in the mud to find it. She had to cast a spell, now; then. It had to be this second. Before…

Before… It happened. There was the light. She snatched her stare to Ron's wilted body fallen over Bonnie's, and Draco strode away. Hermione retched, her fists clenched in the muck, she found her wand. The smooth texture burned around her fingers. No, she felt numb. But something pumped through her, liquid fire. She wanted it. She craved it. Revenge.

* * *

**I know some of you were praying from Bonnie to die and I want everyone to know that I have every aspect of this story planned out before I even started so don't hate me if I do or do not listen to some advice, its just how to story rolls. ****Any questions are welcome, as always. Sorry this chapter is really short, I really had to end it right there.**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	18. A Light

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen:**

She had never had this feeling. Right now, Hermione didn't give a damn about anything. Only the intense sensation that boiled within her, forcing her teeth to grit together painfully to stop her from screaming, her fists tightened until her nails made her skin bleed. And she didn't care, it didn't hurt, not even an unpleasant prickle; she only continued to kneel by Ron's body. She felt someone place a caring hand on her shoulder, Hermione recoiled from the touch. Ginny understood and gingerly removed her grasp, joining Harry in killing the last Death Eater that stood before them. Most of the masked figures had fled; choosing to finish the three of them off slowly.

Because, Hermione recalled: "It's more _fun_ that way…"

Harry knelt beside her, everything seemed grim. He grabbed her hand that was lingering at Ron's, making her look him directly in the eyes. "Who…?" his voice appeared to shatter; he blinked away a stray tear passed his cracked spectacles and took a shaking breath. "Who…?"

"Malfoy." Hermione answered stiffly.

"Great," the resentment pulsing through her made Ginny's voice come out as an angry hiss. "Being the only Weasley left, I'll need to die avenging my last brother. Its fitting, wouldn't you say? What's left of my family has died this night; I might as well join them." A twig snapped.

Harry was trying to console Hermione's bottled grief, smearing the blood from his lip as he wiped it with the back of his hand. He shouldn't have. Ginny was repeating her demand for the direction in which Malfoy had disappeared. There was a swirl of ginger hair, Hermione rose, her thigh muscles shaking into upright position – and she was gone. How could she miss it? Hermione screamed, Harry's shout for her was in vain as Ginny's body collapsed onto the floor.

Pansy Finn, former Parkinson, emerged from the black shadows. "Little redheaded brat." she spat, then pointing her wand at Harry and Hermione. "Drop your wands!"

Hermione was in tears, her hand outstretched towards the now dead Ginny Weasley. Harry seemed to refuse to accept Ginny's sudden murder, ignoring Pansy's command, he ran to her side. Her heart retched at the sight of him shaking her, begging her to wake. The Death Eater narrowed her eyes in his direction, pointing her wand threateningly. "Drop your wand, Potter!"

Harry was taken entirely by surprise when Hermione tackled her, knocking them both off their feet and sent sprawling in the dirt; the struggle lasted a couple long minutes until Hermione pinned Pansy to the ground by wrapping her hands around the Death Eaters neck. Their wands laid nearby, forgotten. "You coward!" Hermione screeched, strengthening her grip. "You coward! Too afraid to face her in a fair fight, coming up from behind like the miserable scum you are! Killing her in shadows without remorse! _Coward_!"

She was unaware of anything that was happening around her, whether they were surrounded by werewolves or other foul creatures, she did not know. Nothing except the sputtering woman beneath her, feebly trying to pry Hermione's hands away. Pansy's mouth was open like a gaping fish out of water; she gave one last, frail effort, and stopped moving.

Hermione released her and backed away, mortified.

_What have I done?_

"Hermione!" Harry's voice cried out, it seemed so far away, yet she felt him shaking her. "_Hermione_!"

"Harry Potter." spoke the chilling voice of Lord Voldemort. "Finally, after twenty-seven years, your time is at its end." Harry wrapped an arm around her and pulled her away from Pansy's body, but it was too late. They were surrounded. There was no escape. Voldemort approached with a daunting presence, the circle of his followers aiming their wands at the two captives. Hermione pitifully turned and pointed her wand at each foe; they were greatly outnumbered by the sneering faces. Most had pulled away their masks. "My friends," Voldemort addressed the Death Eaters with open arms. "My enemies…" he gazed his red slits at Harry. Hermione's breath caught. "This day, we triumph!" cheering erupted from around them. "This day…" his cloak swept behind him as he advanced on them. "I kill Harry Potter."

She felt Harry stiffen beside her.

"Draco…" the figure beside Voldemort stirred. "Disarm them."

The form addressed as Malfoy cautiously strode past his master and stood before Hermione; Harry grasped her hand in what little comfort he could offer her. Draco still wore his mask; the only proof of his identification was the white-blonde hair she noticed when he killed Ron. The Death Eater that was, regrettably, her husband, held his wand at her heart. She felt herself go rigid, ready for the final blow, was he going to finish her off himself? Would Voldemort allow it? He probably thought she deserved death. Her punishment.

But he did something Hermione didn't expect. Draco dropped his wand and fell to his knees before her.

His mask was removed; she saw tears on his face and she saw what seemed to be remorse. The Death Eaters roars of outraged were numerous, they screamed to kill her, torture her, make her suffer. But he didn't, and Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "Hermione," his voice was as it had always been, but it felt kinder to her ears than before. "Hermione, I can't kill you." he whispered to her. She could almost feel Harry's questioning stare from alongside her. "Forgive me, Hermione. _Please_…" he clutched her hand. "Please forgive me."

"Forgive you?" Hermione seemed the words were poison. "How can I forgive you?" she didn't raise her voice, her eyes were fixed atop his bowed head. "You killed my parents, you killed Bill and… and Ron and goodness knows how many others I care about! You – you _forced_ me to marry you!" He looked up at her, clearly unaware of her knowledge. "Malfoy," the name rolled off her tongue. "Why should I forgive you?"

"Because," he paused, hesitant. "I love you."

Hermione gasped and snatched her hand away from his grasp. Her response was her own shock, but Harry gently shoved her from his path and pointed his wand at Malfoy, anger clearly shown on his features. He muttered a spell. "NO!" Hermione seized his arm and pushed it upwards, the deathly sparks shot into the sky. "Don't!"

"Hermione!" Harry snarled at her, but she didn't listen, she dropped beside Draco, forcing him to look at her.

"Draco," she bit her lip and re-griped his hand. "I forgive you."

He almost smiled.

"_Advada Kedavra_!"

"No!" Hermione winced as she watched the light in his eyes extinguished.

"Disloyalty," Voldemort hissed. "is among most punishable by the new law." he sneered. "_My_ law." While Hermione stood back to her feet, she felt her wand being yanked out of her hand and fly into the hands of another Death Eater who snapped it in two. The same thing had happened to Harry who, like her, seemed to have lost all hope of survival. Hermione held back threatening tears as she sighed and hugged Harry. He blinked, but held her tightly.

"You know I love you guys, right?" she whispered to him. "And you know we'll see each other again, right?"

Harry gave her a squeeze. "Yeah, of course."

Before she could say goodbye, they were torn apart from their friendly embrace and thrust as far away from each other without disrupting the ring of opponents around them. Hermione landed roughly into the mud, her side burnt from the impact. She watched pathetically as Voldemort drew closer towards Harry, hot tears fell onto her cheeks while the Death Eater leered.

"Twenty-seven years and this is the moment I knew I would find most pleasurable." the Dark Lord sneered, Harry gritted his teeth. "I have thought long on your death… leisurely would be most fitting for one such as yourself, Harry Potter. Time is of no importance." Voldemort ran his wand through his long, white fingers, seeming to examine the instrument. "Crucio!"

Her stomach lurched as she watched her best friends suffering. Hermione tore her gaze away.

"_Crucio_!"

A horrible scream. She covered her ears, her eyes shut tight. A solution, she had to find a solution. Help Harry. She had to help him. Call out to him.

Ron. She needed Ron. "Please stop!" Hermione's begging tone was hardly heard amongst the applaud. "Stop it!"

"It is a shame; I have other plans…" he sighed disappointingly. "A rather fine curse, I think." Voldemort remarked. "One I found invented by Severus Snape." his snake features seemed to smile with glee. "Sectumsempra!"

"No, _Harry_! Harry, no, don't leave me!" Hermione cried, she felt the spatter of blood and staggered past the now broken force keeping them apart. "Harry…" She crawled on her knees towards him, ignoring Voldemort's shadow over her. Harry had lost his glasses, his breath came in irregular pants and slashes of blood covered his chest. Hermione leaned over him, tears welled in her eyes. "Harry…"

She whispered his name one last time. He looked at her, it seemed difficult. "Ginny…" he murmured. "Ginny…"

The life left his emerald-green eyes. He was still. Hermione released a sob and held his cold hand.

He was gone.

"That's right," Voldemort said bitterly. "Cry. How like a child," at this remark the Death Eaters laughed. "To think you were once the greatest of my Death Eaters. But all hope is not lost for you, Hermione…" he slanted close to her, so she could see his pointed teeth. "Join me," Voldemort said. "Be, once again, my faithful subject. Rule with me. Live for me."

"I will never join you," Hermione stated simply, her voice shaking. "_Voldemort_."

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "In which you have sealed your fate, Hermione Granger."

It crossed her mind. _This is the end. This is it._

But it wasn't the end, the killing curse hit, but she saw a light at it called to her.

* * *

**I know, I've killed everyone. Don't hate me. This isn't the end, there are good reasons!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	19. Chances

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

You all share a special place in my heart. Thank you all so much for sticking by me in this.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen:**

Her vision was blurred, possibly from the tears. Was she dead? She felt warm.

"Hermione! _Oi_! What are you doing? Have you gone mad? I'm sorry! Wha -? Get up!" She shot upwards from her rested position, her head spinning as her eyes tried to adjust. Helplessly she gazed about the hazy atmosphere, and a figure that loomed overhead, gently pressing her shoulders back onto the soft object in which she laid. "Calm down would you?" the person said with some amusement. "It's only a question."

She was oddly comforted at the familiar tone. "Ron?" her voice cracked as a fresh wave of emotion hit her. "RON!" Hermione leapt to her feet and embraced him, kissing his cheeks with all the energy she could muster. Ron held her with just as much enthusiasm, his ears a bright scarlet and his heart beating fast against hers.

"I–I'm guessing it's a yes." Ron said breathlessly.

Hermione blinked. "What's a yes?" she asked remarkably, her voice sounded in awe.

"You will marry me, right?" he held up the small black box that was still clenched in his hand, giving her a hopeful smile.

She froze, her blood ran cold. "What?"

Ron looked at her oddly, gesturing again to the velvet box. "You. Me. _Marry_?"

Hermione gulped, her mouth felt incredibly dry. "I – what? I..."

She realised her surroundings. The setting of the Burrow, as it was, unchanged by time and the familiar, friendly smell of baked goods of Mrs. Weasley's home cooking. There was a banner, 'Congratulations Harry, Ron and Hermione!' draped across the stairs, she was wearing her graduation robe. Her breath came in stunned pants.

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed, placing an arm around her. "Don't faint on me again."

"D-D-D-Death Eaters!" she stuttered, clenching her hand to her breast as she struggled to regain her breath. Ron held onto her anxiously. "They're surrounding us! Hurry, we need to put up some kind of defence force! I'm not joking so don't look at me like that, this is serious! There coming! Quick, grab your wand!"

He was about to question her, but the house shuddered slightly and he looked at her again with an attentive gaze before running into the kitchen, Hermione followed swiftly by his heels. Every gaze in the room drifted to them, examining their expressions. "Death Eaters!" Ron cried, the guests and family went quiet, most had celebratory Fire Whiskey in their glasses.

"What?" someone in the crowd exclaimed, sounding like Tonks.

"No time to explain!" Hermione said in a voice stronger than she felt. "Prepare for about two dozen Death Eaters flying in towards us from the east, their main goal is to capture not kill, but be on your guard no matter what!" she was silent a moment. "I missed you guys…" she muttered, pulling her wand from her robe and exiting into the yard, leaving those who heard her baffled.

--

She didn't know what to think as she waited, except that it was just like before.

She felt the breeze of his breath on her neck, the glare of his grey eyes. Smashes and screams were heard coming from the home not even a yard away - the cries of her second family. "I can offer you and your friend's protection," Malfoy sneered. "Marry me, Granger, and your safe," he looked over his shoulder towards the house. "And so are they." A sickening feeling overwhelmed her, this was it. This was why she saw what happened, this is why she felt what she felt; all the pain, the suffering and sadness, it was all caused by answering this one question. This one question had altered everything. This one question.

If she hadn't married Malfoy, she would have never joined the Death Eaters. If she never joined the Death Eaters, she would have never given them information on Harry. If she never gave them information, the Order would have won the war. Everyone would be themselves. Happy. Everything would be _normal_. This one question.

"You know what?" Hermione said shortly. "I don't think so."

The winds changed, a gush came flying towards them, blowing her hair about her face. She could feel it; she could feel the change, the brightness and energy flowing to her fingertips. Malfoy blinked, she knew he felt it too, the sudden weight released from her shoulders, the sudden glow lying in her path. "What?" he demanded angrily. "I'm offering you a choice – to live or die!"

"I've made my choice," she stated clearly. "I'm not going anywhere." She turned her back; not to the Burrow, she turned her back to _him_.

"You're making a mistake, Granger!" Malfoy called after her departing figure, he seemed to stutter.

"No," she whispered to herself. "Not this time."

* * *

**This is not the end, folks! We still have one more chapter to go, so please stay tuned! If your confused message me, I'll be sure to talk you through it. **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


End file.
